


Fractured Reflections

by SHORTFRY



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon, Canon Era, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHORTFRY/pseuds/SHORTFRY
Summary: She wore a mask to hide the error of his making. Repentant, he would vow to amend the careless action that forever changed her life.  [CU][Sess/Kag]
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Sesshoumaru
Comments: 20
Kudos: 134





	1. Fault

**A/N:** Chapters 1 – 11 edited as of December 2020. Some details have changed but not enough to really affect the story. Just tweaked a few things here and there, though I do recommend starting from the beginning for better flow. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1 – Fault**

She stood deadly still, motionless as trepidation crawled slowly beneath goose-fleshed skin. Survival senses screamed to flee, yet her feet remained planted. She needed to remain tactical. Each potential move was under careful scrutiny as she stared into the endless onyx of two circular, beady eyes.

Had it been just that simple, she would be less apprehensive. But the way those greedy orbs followed her movements hinted at a higher intelligence, at more than just a mindless youkai.

No, this one was not mindless. _This_ was a predator.

It had been the only thing that stayed her normally hasty reactions. Mindless youkai could have easily been out-maneuvered. So because this one was not so mindless, she remained still, locked in an inner frenzy of figuring how to tackle this fickle situation.

Everything had seemed fine until it wasn’t, the day unceremoniously interrupted without so much as a warning. She should have been more alert, should have been more attuned to their surroundings. But as it stood, the self-reprimand was only adding unhelpfully to her unease.

The grating rattle of scale on scale brought attention back to the giant serpent that held those big, optic globes. The situation was becoming evermore dire as the demon slithered in place. It long, slick body was stacked in a coil, encircling her and her companion from escape by its gargantuan frame. Its girth was at least three feet wide and length about forty feet long. She had never seen a snake so huge.

An inky tongue darted out in a forking hiss then, showcasing two equally large, hanging fangs.

“Rin,” she spoke in a hushed voice without taking eyes off the obvious danger, “stay behind me.”

Soft shuffling sounded from her side at the low command. Reaching an arm behind, she nudged the young girl further away from the beast’s line of sight.

She knew Rin was frightened, though the girl did well to hold her fear. Despite the many monstrosities the child had previously been exposed to, it was not something one at her age should get used to. Rin was not old enough to be jaded by all the evil of the world. Not just yet. So acting as her protector, the elder of the two stood her ground and became her shield.

Neither side made a move. As the standstill stretched, the hand that had been clenched on a worn, wooden bow only gripped tighter, knuckles fading white. A trusted weapon – it had been her go-to for countless battles, so much so that the handle had melded perfectly to the ridges of her slightly calloused palm.

Yet at this moment, the reliable weapon did not assuage mounting worry as a determined gaze was slanted to the left, landing upon the dropped quiver far beyond reach.

It had been a stupid oversight.

She scolded herself mentally at such timely clumsiness, that damnable trait. The attack had been a sudden surprise, and in her rush to Rin’s aid, she never gave a thought to grab the abandoned arrows.

With the one thing needed out of reach, her mind began scraping for a solution with whatever they had available. Chancing a look at the bow still in hand, she dismally acknowledged that it was not much to go on while surveying the sturdy instrument.

But just then, a thought occurred. 

_What if the bow can be a conduit...?_

Scanning the enemy, she contemplated the hardened armour of thick, impenetrable scales, and was reminded of a childhood fairy-tale – of houses and pigs, of straws and bricks. Sheets of its outer layers interlocked snugly, overlapping each other like well-formed shingles. Not even its soft underbelly had been left exposed.

This creature was armed to the teeth. 

A small huff escaped frustratingly. There just had to be a weak spot somewhere! She just needed to find it.

She was still surveying the reptilian fortress when the clutching of small, dainty hands at her sleeves told of the younger girl’s mounting distress. She instinctively shifted to block more of her from view of the towering serpent, never wavering from its voracious stare while studying for possible escape. Like any predator, it seemed to be taking its time, finding the precise instance to strike.

In turn, she studiously traced its endless lines calculatingly, looking for any open opportunity.

They were surrounded within a walled column created by its coiled form, high enough to interrupt view of the sun-splattered forest in the eerily quiet afternoon. The column it created was at least twice her height. Piteously, she thought of beseeching the gods for war tactics on how to scale a wall. If only more attention had been paid throughout history class, there had been so many walls! The Great Wall of China, the Berlin Wall, the Wall of Babylon…

She shook her head of the ridiculous thought.

_But none were made of a human-eating youkai with sharp – probably venomous – teeth._

Her stance hardened while swallowing the dryness in her throat, heels digging further into the ground. There was comfort in the solidity. As though rooting herself would enable her immovable against such an imposing force, lending strength straight from the earth below.

She noticed the slow, alien-like blink of the creature’s unwavering eyes; a second, thinner eyelid closing fractionally over those insidious orbs before disappearing once again.

Her spine chilled at the display, practically feeling the palpable abhorrence skitter her back at the sight of the still-staring beast.

Time was running out, and they needed to try _something_. _Anything_.

If this youkai had any sliver of intelligent thought as suspected then perhaps it could also be reasoned with, despite its seeming lack of speech. She had gone up against such foes in the past – creatures whose cognitive maturity had been between that of animals and humans. More comparable to chimps and monkeys, those youkai had an ability to understand. She needed to _make_ it understand – make it think of her as a threat and not a meal. And there was one thing that all demons instinctually knew to fear.

The tenseness in her jawline was firm as she channelled bravado that was not quite there. Taking a deep breath, she began to vociferate roaringly clear.

“Leave us, or I’ll _purify_ you!”

The beast immediately stilled from its miniscule slithering as her voice rang out.

The subtle hissing stopped.

No more sounds of shifting scales. It was almost surreal, white noise peeling away to silence.

She and her young companion kept still, afraid to make any sudden movements that might provoke. She hoped the creature had understood her threat. Wished for the creature’s eventual retreat.

Another moment passed mockingly as the beast just stared with those round, endless, orbs.

She held her breath.

And waited.

But nothing was happening.

Minutes stretched on before slowly, the sounds drifted back once again.

A vibrating hum electrified the atmosphere as a sensory tale of hunger’s rapacity glissaded through its thick, engrossing shaft.

Panic dropped like stones in her chest.

Her attempt had been futile.

In fact, she feared, it seemed to have added to the serpent’s rising excitement, feathering air to a teeming flame as its eyes took on a haunting glint. Another darting of tongue hissed as the creature salivated, and she visibly recoiled at the impending threat. At the sound of scales sliding excitedly upon scales, a small gasp escaped her parched throat at what was soon to come.

In a split second, the snake launched with extended, pointed fangs.

Blue eyes widened right before adrenaline kicked in, swiftly tugging Rin close to her side while simultaneously pivoting out the path of danger.

The snake’s stocky body skidded by the spot they had just been occupying, muscled jaws snapping the air mere inches away. That had been a close call, but the attack was not over.

A flash of green caught her sight. The beast had changed trajectory and was quickly careening towards them once more.

Without a second thought, glowing energy channelled into the clutched bow in hand, flowing from arm to palm to wood, gathering strength.

Just as the snake dove within reach and poised to strike, she raised an arm and plunged downwards with all her might, driving the pointed end of the bow into slick, thick scales. A vile screech echoed from the youkai’s hideous mouth as it glided violently by, knocking the two humans angrily off their feet.

They fell harshly against jagged rocks lining the field as a distressed cry ripped into the clearing. Without contemplating on the status of the beast, the protector quickly righted herself and scrambled over to the other fallen girl without a care for her own newly-forming bruises.

“Rin! Are you okay?” Her heart was pounding, voice almost wavering as she scanned for any harm, hands roving, gaze meeting.

Rin gave a timid nod, but she could tell the girl was holding back tears. As long as they were both still able to stand and not rendered unconscious, worrying will just have to wait. Giving Rin’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a hesitant glance studied the looming head of the serpent.

There was a noticeable scorched patch of scales from where the bow had connected just below its jaw. Yet the damage was minimal, its armour leaving no point of penetration.

Her hackles rose.

The beast was seething.

 _That…is not good…not good at all_ , she thought grimly.

It was unfortunate that most previous trainings had bypassed close-range combat. If she had been more like Sango, maybe she would have known just where to hit to not waste a strike.

But now was not the time for hindsight.

Lividness emanated from the beast’s atrocious aura, pressing in like four walls in a shrinking room. Their options were running out, yet the walls continued to contract. The telltale rattle of scraping scales indicated another oncoming attack, ominously grating to the ears. Sinking dread saturated each passing minute, growing heavier and heavier. Her focus was kept on that dangerous jaw and those deadly fangs, preparing for its next unerring move.

But it was too late when she noticed a flick to the side, as suddenly its massive tail scourged forth from their left flank.

There was no time to run. No room to dodge fully.

Stricken with fear, she forcefully shoved Rin away in a last-ditched effort, hoping it was enough to get her out the path of the large appendage.

A high-pitched cry tore from Rin’s throat as she once again fell harshly against protruding rocks a few feet away, tears stinging like shards of glass.

Remorse mirrored on the elder woman’s expression before scrunching painfully. The serpent’s tail had caught her in a forceful blow, curling around her midsection in a flurry of movement.

“R-Rin,” she struggled against its vice-like grip, arms trapped as she winced helplessly at the younger girl’s tear-stained face.

If only she had quicker reflexes, if only she had not been so careless –

Sharp pain shot through her chest against the crushing hold, labouring each intake of much-needed air.

But that was not what was concerning her.

She needed to save the girl, to get her away. Rin still had a chance. And as long as the snake was coiled around her, it would limit movements from going too far after her companion.

With a burning breath licked by fire, she squeezed out a single command.

_“-RUN!”_

Rin snapped attention at the desolate warning from her fallen position, but limbs remained unmoveable from shock, shackled down with the weight of distress. Never had she heard such desperation from the woman. It just struck vividly how dreadful of a situation this had really become. An urgent worry wracked her soul for the one who had saved her from danger, ripping out another wail, this time for her protector’s safety.

“ _Kagome-sama!”_

But it was too late.

Its hungry, predatory gaze had turned focus in Rin’s direction at the shrilling pitch, hardened in on its second victim. Its long upper body slithered the closing distance with a lockless jaw agape, ready to swallow anything whole like a shark to a school of fish.

Wide brown eyes watched in horror as the massive head leaned back in a slow tilt –

Then it snapped forward.

She made to scream, expression pinching as blood drained from her heart-shaped face. And just as she was about to become course to a youkai’s meal, a flash of white appeared before the petrified girl.

She felt the ground suddenly fade away in the darkness, and within moments, the earth was solid again beneath her feet.

Clenched tear-lined lids reopened.

She could have sworn she had been eaten, but was instead relieved, seeing the forest green instead of the insides of a digestive tract. Peering up, what she found was a very familiar face.

“Sesshomaru-sama!” she exclaimed in tidal relief.

Strong arms positioned her comfortably on a safe patch of grass as he quickly scanned for damage just as the miko had done. Noticing the girl’s clutching of her right arm, his inner beast became displeased. Reining control of an increasing rage, his voice kept sharp and tethered.

“Stay here. Do not move.”

Rin remained still, and once ensuring compliance to issued instructions, crimson-tinged pupils turned in direction of the serpent as the daiyoukai rose to his full height.

This danger should not have come to his ward, and he was livid at the pitiful youkai’s attempt to harm his charge. It will dearly pay. The only thing it shall taste is the sting of death upon the burn of vicious, lethal poison.

Acting upon baser instincts, the beast raged at the realization of its stolen meal as it now eyed the newcomer several yards away. It once again coiled as another rattle sounded its intent to strike. 

Staring down with equally deadly purpose, sizzling toxins dripped from sharpened claws. An easy dispatch, but he will still make it suffer.

“ _Die, vermin,_ ” he spat as white and silver launched forward in the blink of an eye.

Poison-tipped claws slashed silkily through a distended jaw before the snake had a chance to make its overconfident strike.

Tortured screeches continued ringing out its vile throat, the now gaping hole at the back of its head spreading wider as the potent acid ate away at melting flesh. Putrid smoke tainted the air, carrying with it the scent of decay and death. It was an easy kill, just as expected. No more effort than crushing an insect beneath his solid boots. The snake slackened and fell, tumbling down in a steaming, rubbled mess.

Sesshomaru revelled in its demise as self-satisfied triumph tugged on a growing smirk – until a deafening scream tore through the clearing in stilted pause.

In a rare panic, he instinctively looked behind him to his ward, relief awash to see that Rin was as he had left her – safe and sound. Confusion then marred just the tiniest of cracks in his normally calm exterior.

_If not her, then –_

A single pulse of power – bright and potent – drew his focus forward before it dissipated in rippled streaks. He was hit with a wave of sudden realization when a distinctly metallic scent stung high in his nose.

Behind molten chunks of the slain serpent, a lone figure remained hunched over, surrounded by the coils of withering scales. As one arm kept the figure from falling completely to the ground, the other trembled over a down-cast face, features hidden behind a tumbling veil of raven locks.

-X-


	2. Gratitude

**Chapter 2 – Gratitude**

Seething anger rolled off the irate woman in turbulent waves, and he certainly understood her rage. However, it was becoming irksome, and he was not one to back down should she decide to continue this insensible challenge. And as he observed, many things were insensible – emotional humans especially.

Acutely impassive as he spoke, his tone remained levelled and assured.

“It was not intentional.”

Dark brows furrowed further, the demeanour of the indifferent answer adding more fuel to the fire. Did he somehow think that would be placating? As if saying _oops, my bad_ , and then carrying on as if it were a non-issue? Unsurprisingly, this ticked her off even more, fury lacing her voice as much as it did her scowling features.

“ _Not inten_ – is that all you have to say for what you’ve done? I should – ”

“Sango,” interjected a concerned voice. It came from the person whose arm was currently wrapped firmly around the seething woman’s waist. And it was the only thing holding her back from storming up to berate the Lord of the West. The grip was almost desperate, and perhaps it was, like trying to save a child from drowning.

“Sesshomaru-sama said it was unintentional, and I’m sure he’s–”

“Lay off, Monk!” she shot back while twisting forcefully out of his solid grip. Of all things, she had somewhat expected him to be on her side, not holding her back like _she’s_ the one that’s gone mad.

Sango gained only a few steps in her momentary escape before Miroku anchored her again to prevent further escalation. Regardless of her combative experience, should any violence come to pass, it would without a doubt yield a deadly end. He knew the revered lord only had so much patience, and it was a wonder his calmness did not dissipate while being accosted. At this moment, he was extremely grateful for their continued alliance.

But heedless of tact, Sango was far rasher than he as she continued struggling against his gripping hold, piercing the emotionless youkai with her boiling glare. It bubbled to the surface as she latched on to the rage instead of the winding hurt clawing for release. No, she was not done with her madness as all inhibitions regarding her own safety were tossed to the wind.

“Just _how_ could you have let this happened?”

Cold eyes narrowed at the accusatory tone; a miniscule indication of his thinning patience. He could strike her down. Would have, if it were not for minor inconveniences that would surely follow. The monk certainly had more sensibility.

“ _I_ did not _let_ this happen,” he enunciated displeasingly, “ _She_ is alive.”

Sango bit her tongue and sneered at such a blatant dismissal. As if his affirmation of her friend’s viability acquitted all liability. Preparing for another verbal tirade, the next words nearly tumbled out before the flapping of straw mats diverted her notice. Turning towards the distraction, all fight melted upon the tired eyes of the old woman like ice in a heated pot. 

Feeling the sudden laxness of the raging warrior, Miroku finally released his hold in relief, certain she would not lash out again. If she did, he would be ready to hold her back once more as he kept her within sight, cautious of any sudden movements.

Once assured, he turned to face Kaede as she stepped out from the weather-worn hut. The first thing he noticed was the grimness shadowing the old miko, and he suddenly felt like he was doused in freezing water.

“How is she?” he asked, the quivering of his own voice echoing obvious concern.

Kaede took a steadying breath through crinkled lips, worn-out gaze panning the group at her doorstep. She was not surprised they were all still waiting within such proximity as the hours gradually crawled into the evening dusk. Though wearier, it was evident that the initial distress from their arrival had not faded in the least. Anguish still laced the young features of the taijiya, while the monk did his best to adorn an air of collectedness as he always had when confronting such situations. The only one lacking any apparent grievances was the apathetic daiyoukai, but that was to be expected.

She decided to face the worried young woman first, sensing restlessness from the prolonged wait.

“Ye may go in and see her, though she has yet to wake.”

Sango gave a firm nod as shoulders marginally relaxed, though she was still as rigid as ever. Turing to the others, Kaede then bowed slightly in addressing the regal lord, old bones creaking like iron joints.

“Ye ward is patched up, if ye would also like to come inside and see to her.”

When the old miko moved aside for them to enter, Sango wasted no time and was first to surge forth into the dwelling. Each short step was like walking through water. The faster she hurried, the more weighted it became.

Within moments, a gasp escaped parted lips, hand rising to a clenching chest. Tears began to sting as tortured brown eyes landed upon the scene just barely visible in the dying daylight.

In the corner of the room, tucked away beneath a thin blanket, lay the one whom she had considered a sister. Breath left her lungs as she took in the blood-soaked bandages. Layers upon layers, they covered the entire right half of the unconscious girl’s face.

Glaring red became reminders of a fallen village that she was unable to protect.

And now those same fears were repeating.

It was almost too much to bear. She wanted to wretch, to expel the pain. The flood in her eyes began to pool.

Sango wanted to run forward and hold her, cradle her. As though she would suddenly disappear and slip away for good. But instead, she trained a few wobbly steps, coming to kneel at the bedside, hand tentatively reaching out to rest upon the slumbering form.

But it was all too much.

With one shaky breath, she felt the floods trickle and fall, tears streaming like cracks upon broken glass.

“… _Oh Kagome,”_ she whispered achingly.

Miroku remained wordless beside the grieving brunette as she silently sobbed. Though tears did not seize him, he was just as distraught by the sight of the woman from the future, rending from him a tortured gasp upon first sight.

But he could not – would not – voice his concerns nor his torment. Instead, he had rested a reassuring hand upon Sango’s trembling shoulder. It was his way of giving her space yet allowing her to be strong.

Allowing _him_ to be strong.

She didn’t need his embraces and displays of affection right now. She needed his strength, and this was how he would offer support. This was all he could supply at the moment to help. And perhaps it was helping him as well, to feel the warmth of the strong woman’s shoulder seep into the hand that no longer held a void.

To lend _him_ strength.

As Sango relinquished restrained tears in the quiet hut, Miroku finally peeled his eyes away from the gut-wrenching scene. Looking to the right, Rin was spotted sleeping soundly on a separate futon. The sound of fluttering flaps and the omnipresent hum of encroaching youki signalled of Sesshomaru’s entrance behind him.

From the corner of his eye, he watched silently as the daiyoukai made his way towards his ward, regal stature crouching gently to place a hand upon the girl’s forehead in a fatherly gesture. It wasn’t as surprising a sight as it had once been. Over time, they had come to realize the utter devotion the growing child held towards her guardian, and the protectiveness exhibited through the almost undetectable actions of the daiyoukai himself.

What had started off as sporadic encounters had turned into increasingly frequent visits, allowing them to gleam more insight into the unexpected relationship between the lord and his ward. This eventually led to Sesshomaru often leaving Rin in Kagome’s care when conducting routine patrols near the village. The young miko had been ecstatic for each of the young girl’s visit, and had dedicated her time to watching over her and teaching her things that any growing child should learn. She definitely didn’t agree with the notion that education was only for the elite males of this era. She also knew that if Rin wanted to learn, Sesshomaru would not object. With all the wealth of his stature, a suitable tutor on any subject would have been procured with ease.

Nonetheless, Kagome had taken upon herself to watch over the exuberant girl, just as she had done with the young kit throughout the years. So she had practically begged the unflinching Lord of the West to let his ward visit whenever possible. Rin was integrating well with the rest of the village youth, and watching her smile and play with children her age had always brought warmth to Kagome’s heart.

Yes, the young miko always flourished when seeing others happy.

Reflecting back on the day’s event, a sullen guilt roved through Miroku’s ever optimistic outlook, wavering resolve.

He should have been with them, should have accompanied them on their brief trek to gather herbs for the infirmary. A promise of protection he had failed to uphold. For the umpteenth time that day, he was grateful of Sesshomaru’s presence. If not for the Western Lord’s intervention, regardless of Sango’s displeasure, the resulting outcome would have been far, far worse. 

A flutter of silk brought him out of his silent reverie, once again watching through his wayward glance as the daiyoukai carefully rose to his feet carrying the still-slumbering girl in a loose grip. A bandaged arm lay limply on her chest and held in place with a make-shift sling.

Miroku’s thoughts wandered back to just hours before.

It had been a horrid sight when Sesshomaru first approached with the miko similarly draped in his arms. His aura had been furious then. Miroku had immediately sensed him heading towards the village long before his steady arrival breached the edge of town. It was a rare occurrence for the composed youkai to be so unhinged, and as the darkening youki neared, he had finally understood the gravity of the situation.

Rin had followed behind with a constant look of worry, but the miko had been limp and almost lifeless. Fearing the worst, the sight of her injuries had only exacerbated the torment that had taken hold while the monk latched onto desperate prayers.

Willing the earlier memories away, Miroku lifted his eyes to meet an inscrutable gaze. Sesshomaru was about to make his leave.

“Thank you, Sesshomaru-sama, for protecting Kagome and bringing her back to us.” He had voiced his thanks earlier, but deemed it appropriate to reiterate his appreciation, regardless of the circumstance of how the injuries came to be. It was non debatable; a far better outcome compared to death. And for that, he expressed his eternal gratitude.

A slight incline of a pointed chin was the single acknowledgement for the monk before Sesshomaru turned his back, exiting the sombre hut without a spoken word.

“Ye should rest, it is late. I will let ye know of Kagome’s progress and when she wakes,” came a tired voice.

Two pairs of eyes landed upon Kaede; one watery and tear-stained, the other with lugubrious weariness.

“I can’t leave her like this.” Sango countered in barely a whisper, sorrow echoing loudly nonetheless. She didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore. This one had cut deep, knife twisting and twisting. “I want to stay by her side.”

The old miko lowered into a seated position next to the irori, gently stoking fading embers to reignite yellowing flames. The warmth was comforting like a blanket on a cold winter day.

“Ye must also rest, child. It would do no good to burden ye self by staying awake.” Kaede sighed, knowing the stubbornness of the taijiya.

_Strong willed ye may be, but Kagome will need the strength of her friends._

Miroku spoke up then, anticipating the rebuttal to come by the telltale wrinkling of Sango’s brows.

“Kaede’s right. We should go rest,” he treaded cautiously. Sensing no acquiesce, he then added, “We are no help if we are drained of energy ourselves.”

“But Miro-“

“No, Sango, you know I’m right.” He cut her off, knowing she would not back down easily. Though he often gave in to this woman’s whims, in this situation, he needed to be firm.

“We will visit as soon as we wake, and then we can stay by her side all of tomorrow. _After_ you get some rest,” he said in tones that brook no argument.

A heavy sigh breached. He was right. As with most things, he was the voice of reason, and she knew to trust his judgement. Sango glanced back to her injured friend.

Kagome’s once luscious hair was now strewn over the pillow’s edge in a matted mess. The gentle rise and fall of her chest under the crumpled blanket, the soft whisper of air upon each breath, and the cold touch of her hand still held in Sango’s grasp had strung together a gut-wrenching image contrasting the usual vibrant woman they all cherished.

With careful reluctance, Sango gave Kagome’s hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, rising to her feet while wiping away the dried remains of salt-stained tears. “We’ll be back at first light tomorrow.”

Kaede nodded her acknowledgement as the two made their way out the hut, but not before Miroku mouthed a silent _thanks_ for the old miko’s assistance and hospitality.

-X-


	3. Cleansing

**Chapter 3 – Cleansing**

There was an odd sensation that was tranquil yet disquieting. Curiously entrancing, it felt like opposites ebbing and flowing for dominance of a stasis realm. There was no light. No sound. No perception _–_ yet, there was _something_. An impression was there, pulsating to a rhythmless beat. Numbness danced with fleeting shadows of a burning flame to a song with no beginning. In this dark, lightless abyss, time had lost all meaning and silence was the sound. It seemed endless, adrift and floating upon eternity.

And yet, this peculiar sensation was waning, giving way for something else. Something that was clawing at her to wake, scraping and scratching at the peripherals of a dream-like state.

It was faint at first, but soon grew stronger and more insistent, beckoning for her to follow. The flames began to prickle, no longer numb. Senses were fading into existence like a slow sunrise.

A sudden, sharp intake of breath alerted the first sound of awakening.

Before long, shadows slowly receded. Edges of reality weaved webs of crystal spider threads, delicate and on the brink of shattering upon a single touch, stitching together a new coherency.

A hushed, indistinguishable voice filtered through a curtain of fog.

_“Kagome…”_

The voice was familiar, but everything was still dark, still sightless. Somehow, she knew she was no longer in that other plane of existence, and instead somewhere more solid. More grounded. There was a feeling of comfort – or was it relief? Whatever it was, it had been lacking up until this point, something that wasn’t there in the cool black of the calling void.

She heard her name again, spoken ever so softly.

Then finally, she felt it.

Microcurrents flooded her senses. Reconnecting and rebooting. No longer adrift, gravity began to weigh as warmth seeped into a net of nerves bit by bit, limb by limb. Laden lids flickered, struggling to open as though stapled shut before fluttering wide at long last. As the darkness slipped away, all that greeted her was a blurred silhouette.

“Oh thank the kamis you’re awake!”

The disembodied voice sounded like it was coming from all directions, though it would only belong to the person in her hazy vision. As the lingering film of sleep melted away, fuzzy outlines began to take form. Within moments, the image paved clear, recognition settling in upon the singular figure.

“Sango? Wha –” she began with a croak, syllables etching like sandpaper along unused vocal cords. Swallowing the lump of roughness away with some difficulty, she tried again. “What… happened?”

Sango winced upon hearing those hoarsely spoken words, mentally kicking at herself for not having water at hand. How had that been such an oversight? She had been sitting idle and useless in wait when she could have been more prepared!

Noticing Kagome’s attempt to rise, she quickly hid her shame and immediately pressed a firm hand upon her shoulder, easing her back down onto the matress. It was still too soon to be moving around.

“Don’t get up yet,” she began, words snagging and tangling and nearly wrenching more tears from dry brown eyes. Seeing her awake had brought forth a wave of relief. But that bit of relief would not last. Sadness crept from the knowledge that only despair would follow. She didn’t know how to break the news, nor how her dear friend would handle such a revelation. She only wished she could shield the poor girl from ever seeing the aftermath – from the pain and the damage. All of it. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t within her power to do so. And she would do _anything_ for her _sister_.

Kagome was her family.

Sucking in a breath, Sango inwardly steadied before continuing in a tone that hoped to convey tenderness without the tinge of sadness that flayed her senses.

“You were attacked and injured… you’ve been unconscious for three days, Kagome. We were so worried!”

The faltering reply sounded so out of place, like the voice didn’t quite belong to the fearless taijiya that Kagome knew her to be. Something was amiss. Sango’s expression betrayed a mix of concern, relief, and…regret? 

Looking through fog-glazed eyes, Kagome could tell Sango was holding back, as though giving her time to absorb. To react. To support.

_I was attacked? By what?_

Confusion was evident as the miko’s expression crinkled. The heavy mist of a dreamless slumber still coated her senses in thick sheets, wrapped around her tumbling conciousness in a curling embrace. Throat still dry, she didn’t give voice to her befuddlement.

_And where…?_

“Kagome,” Sango started, noticing the blank uncertainty, “do you remember… what happened?”

Opening her mouth to answer, she stopped when realizing nothing was forthcoming. Her memories felt stuffed with cotton. “I-I’m…not sure…”

Giving an empathetic smile, Sango grabbed hold of Kagome’s hand and gave a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay if you don’t remember, it’ll come to you. Just take your time. I’ll be back with some water.”

Kagome nodded slightly before lolling her head back onto the pillow as Sango quickly headed out the room. As she lay, her line of sight drifted toward the ceiling, tracing parallel lines of the wooden beams while trying to recall anything from before her slumber. Sango had said she was attacked, but how? And who or what had attacked her? Everything was just a blank. It seemed as though nothing existed before waking up just moments ago.

That wasn’t right. There had to be _something_.

_Think, Kagome, think!_

Growing frustrated, she continued reaching through the swirling opacity that still enveloped until finally, after a few stretched out minutes, visions began to slowly emerge like sepia-tinged polaroids.

_A lush field of wild grass._

_Sun-dappled foliage._

_Glinting points and reflective green._

_A painful scream._

And suddenly, the puzzle pieces fell alarmingly in place.

_“Rin!”_

The name ripped out hoarsely as anguished memories rushed. Jolting upright in a burst of energy, an unfocused gaze darted frantically around.

Sango was entering the hut again when saw the panic instantly, and knew she needed to quell the fears before sensitive wounds reopen. Dropping down, she grasped Kagome’s shoulders to steady her rising hysteria.

“Kagome – ” she started, but was cut off by another sharp and desperate shout.

“Rin!”

Flinching at the shrill, piercing cry, Sango held firmly to allay her unseeing friend, calling out her name once more. But Kagome did not seem to hear, did not seem to be mentally there.

 _Rin_ was not there. They were in danger. Something sinister was after them.

She needed to find her. She needed to get to her. She needed to–

“Shhh...It’s ok, Kagome,” Sango soothed, now holding her in a tight embrace. Secure arms were rubbing slow circles along her back. It was something she used to do to pacify her little brother whenever he had nightmares. She just hoped it would work on Kagome.

But the woman was obviously not herself, teetering on the edge of traumatic shock. Her cloudy gaze kept bouncing from wall to wall, looking at anything and everything to find something. Instead of calming, panting air caressed Sango’s ear with each hyperventilating breath.

Raising her voice with a bit more authority, Sango continued imploringly, hoping to break through the fevered spell.

“Rin is _fine_ , she’s ok!”

There was no response.

Moving her hands to clasp over wavering shoulders, she held her close, and tried once more.

“Kagome, look at me!”

Again, no response came from the frenetic girl. 

“KAGOME!”

Misty blue finally snapped to worried brown as the calamitous visions started to clear. Hypermnesia began slipping away to be replaced by current reality. Haze lifting, understanding finally dawned as Kagome stilled in reassuring arms, staring into the worried face of her long-time friend.

“Breathe, Kagome. Breathe.”

Doing as told, Kagome inhaled deeply, exhaling slowing before noticing the dark circles lining concerned, puffy eyes. An immediate pang of guilt scrapped her chest, chiselling away like paint chips in an old apartment wall.

“I-I’m sorry for worrying you, Sango…” she apologized, clearly ashamed. It was quite obvious the slayer did not sleep a wink last night. She never did when a friend was in trouble. It was always the case whenever Miroku had been poisoned by those nasty saimyosho.

Sango only shook her head to indicate she needn’t be sorry, watching as Kagome slowly survey their current surroundings, trying to mash the memories of before and the now, reconciling where she had been outside, to the inside where she had awoken.

“Is Rin here?” she asked hesitantly, “She was with me, did – did she get hurt?”

Releasing hold of uncoiling shoulders, Sango brought her hands to rest upon her lap, brows softening at the voiced concern. “She’s okay. Only had a broken arm, but Kaede splinted it and Sesshomaru had already left with her.”

“Sesshomaru came?” Kagome sighed with relief, finally feeling the tension ease. Though her recollection of what had transpired were as clear as stew, she felt almost immediately better knowing that the young girl was safe, and that no major harm had befallen her. If anything more dire were to have happened, she would never forgive herself. After all, Rin had been entrusted in her care. It had been her responsibility to keep the girl safe.

Still, remorse soon settled heavily like a stone thrown in a shallow pond.

Rin had still gotten hurt in the end. How long it would take for a broken arm to heal? Especially in this era, where medical advancements were lacking and the road to recovery were littered with complications. Just how badly had her arm been broken? Was it a hairline fracture? Or was it a compound fracture? Did the bone pierce her skin? Did her bones shatter? 

Anxious questions rushed in turbulent waves, causing Kagome’s head to spin.

Sango replied lowly and tersely, oblivious to the train of thought ploughing through Kagome’s mind. “Yes… actually, it was Sesshomaru that found you both and brought you two back to the village.” She was still mad his carelessness.

“I remember now…we were attacked by a… a snake youkai just before I blacked out…” Kagome pondered the events after a pregnant pause, trying to piece together the shredded snippets of what transpired, only finding flashes of green and something sharp. It was still translucent, like fog on glass. “Sesshomaru must have saved us just in time.”

Sango felt a pang of rage at that underserving acclaim, but decided to silence such opposing opinions at the moment for the sake of her friend. Bottling it up and capping it down, she decided to change the subject, and meekly asked, “Kagome, how are you feeling?”

Noticing a subtle, directed gesture, Kagome brought a hand to the bandages on the side of her face, brushing gingerly against the rough patchwork of overlapping cloth. How odd. She hadn’t even noticed the wide swathe of the coarse fabric, as if it hadn’t even been there at all until attention was drawn to it.

“I…” Kagome paused, reflecting upon her own injuries for the first time since waking. Other than the bruising felt around her chest that was sure to be colourful, and the slight jabbing in her ribs, she did not recall any other wounds inflicted by the serpent youkai. Had something else happened?

Tentative fingers trailed along the side of her jaw, running along the edges until the dressing ended. It had covered the entire right side of her face, and it was only now that she noticed her right eye had also been covered. No wonder it was so hard to focus her vision. She really _was_ dazed.

“There’s a bit of pain along the sides…” she said while continuing to trace the sensation, “but it mostly just feels numb.”

A sapphire iris centered on the solemn look of her friend, noticing the worrying of her bottom lips. Sango looked all the part the bearer of horrible news. 

“Sango…” Kagome started as sinking trepidation impregnated the air around them. Dread was always the precursor to something terrible, but she steeled her nerves anyway.

“How…how bad is it…?”

-X-

The soft rippling of the stream brought a calming tranquility as the sun warmed her skin. The scent of early spring pine seeped through bated lungs, relishing in the cleansing peace it carried in weaving strokes. She was reminded of days gone-by like an old family film, smiling gently at the memories of past adventures. Back then, these simple pleasures of basking in the afternoon glow were few and far in between, but very much treasured nonetheless. It had allowed for an escape from long days and longer nights; a coveted paradise away from the call of duty.

Away from _her_ duty.

Away from _their_ fight.

But that was all in the past now. The scant years since were more idyllic as settlements began rebuilding from turmoil wrought by the quest for a tiny jewel. Battered morale recovered, and the grass became greener. 

She took another invigorating breath while stepping ankle-deep into the lazy riverbed, hands lifting and rolling her long hakama to keep from soaking. The refreshing coolness sent a shudder down her spine, skittering across her back as swirling wavelets danced between her toes. Angling lower, she sat on the fallen log that lay along the edge of the brook, feet still submerged in the flowing water. The log provided plenty of room to sit. The decaying oak that once stood tall now rested, looking like it was purposely placed for a wanderer’s enjoyment. It served another purpose upon its death, and blended in well with the scenery.

Eyes closing, the twinkling serenity of the surrounding nature enveloped every inch of her body, clearing her mind and filling her whole with collected composure. She could make out faint noises of woodland critters. Beaks that pecked, wings that flapped, branches that scratched, and paws that scuffled and brushed along tall grasses. 

There were so much more to see when eyes were closed.

Soon, her thoughts scurried to other things unseen. Visions of forest nymphs and mythical creatures depicted a colourful scene. If those fictitious beings were real, would they also bask in such wistful enjoyment? Because honestly, what else was there to do in such a magical place?

And maybe they were real, just hidden from sight. Because once upon a time, she didn’t think youkai were real, either.

But here they were, and here she is.

Idly, she wondered if those mythical creatures of fairytale books were the same youkai that roamed the lands in the current time.

Were mermaids just another form of a water demon? Was Poseidon really a god, or was he just a Greek version of a youkai as well?

Looking to the sleepy stream, she flipped through memories to recall if she’d ever encountered elementals, and cannot for the life of her seem to remember.

_They would probably be beautiful, like angels of fire and earth. I wonder; did Kagura count as a wind elemental?_

She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there enjoying the quiet peace away from the village in silent musings, but by the time rested eyes reopened from pleasant daydreams, the beaming sun was already casting longer shadows. Leaning over, hands dipped into the water, rinsing away traces of pollen and dust from earlier explorations of the flower field. As the ripples scattered, she caught her reflection, the contented smile from before vanishing instantly as if it was never there. Her lips lifted ruefully.

_If you were still here to see me now, Inuyasha, you’d never mistake me for Kikyo again._

With a shake of her head to leave the past in the past, she abruptly stood and stepped out of the river, walking the few paces to a nearby boulder where a shawl had been placed. Reaching for the fabric, she gently unravelled the lengthy silk and began to drape it around her neck and over her head in practiced movements. It snagged against rough patches of skin while gliding against smoother areas. Tugging along the sides to secure its place, the light material fluttered as a breeze swept by, brushing strands of her raven hair along in an upward draft.

She took one last look around the meadow, its familiarity already imprinted from the past month of regular visits. There was something about this place that placated and untangled her worries. Perhaps it was the privacy it provided. A reprieve from daily life, undisturbed by anything but the abundant flora. The budding flowers would soon fully bloom to fill the area with delicately sweet fragrances. Hints of what’s to come were already apparent in the air she breathed. Turning to leave, she toed on her shoes and began making her way back towards the village.

-X-

The short walk home was journeyed in an unhurried pace, thoughts remaining unsurprisingly blank. She had been increasingly catching herself in tabula rasa, only jostling back to a more attentive state from etchings of the outside world.

Such as now, when a shout in the stubby distance stilled her footsteps. Turning towards the disturbance, she saw a recognizable tall brunette wave from the road behind.

“Hey Kagome!”

“Hi Sango,” she waved back.

Closing the distance with a light jog, Sango flashed a warm smile when she reached Kagome.

“I’ve been looking for you all day. Where have you been hiding?” she asked as they began walking again.

“Just here and there finishing up some chores. Are you guys heading back soon?” Sensing the woman’s curious eyes on her, Kagome unconsciously tugged at her shawl, pulling it just a bit more to shield her face. The covering casted majority of her features in shadows, and the action did not go unnoticed.

Sango inwardly winced at her own blunt wording, already hyperaware of those subtle actions that began popping up. Kagome was trying to make herself small and unnoticeable, but Sango always noticed.

She shoved some cheer into her voice, no doubt for her own distraction. “In a few days. Miroku’s just packing up.”

Ever since the incident, Sango and Miroku had extended their stay in Edo to support their dear friend in her recovery. It was only with reluctance that they were to be leaving so soon, and only after firm assurances from Kagome that she was fine and well. They continued along the dirt trail at a steady pace exchanging small talk about their day.

“I have something for you,” Sango started as they arrived at the small hut Kagome called her home. Reaching into the satchel slung over a rigid shoulder, she pulled out a neatly wrapped package and handed it over to the questioning woman.

Timid hands reached out to receive the parcel from outstretched arms, a hint of curiosity lining a brow. “What is it?”

“Just open it.” 

Slowly, the gift was unwrapped as a tug on the brown twine released the intricate folds of the cloth-bound bundle. Lifting away the flaps like peeling a budding flower, Kagome gasped. Holding steady, fingertips lightly touched the smooth surface of the fine adornment, cool to the skin, tracing along the edges in wonderment as it glinted in the setting sunlight.

It was half a mask sculpted in delicate ivory, custom-made just for her.

It was beautiful.

Glimmering blue looked up at glassy hazel, eyes meeting in mutual affection.

“Sango…” she breathed, feeling fuller than she had in days, “thank you!”

Without warning, Kagome was encircled in a tight embrace.

-X-

A/N: For those wondering why Kagome wasn’t in excruciating pain after such a tragic injury upon waking, it’s because I modelled it after 3rd degree burns, where nerve endings get pretty much destroyed. Combined that with the numbing medicine Kaede used in dressing the wounds, Kagome doesn’t feel much. 


	4. Departed

**Chapter 4 – Departed**

A soft melody hummed in the late spring breeze, blushing lips pressing thinly to forge each airy note. Sandalled feet skipped ahead on the well-traveled path, a grin plastering delicate features as familiar rooftops came into sight. Those same rooftops had always stretched along the widening treeline for as long as she could remember, guiding her like a northern star to a place that increasingly felt like a secondary home. And she couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging upon each sight, upon each step.

Glancing over a shoulder for her guardian’s approval, a simple nod was offered her way before her smile grew. In the blink of an eye, she had dashed ahead, soon coming to a stop upon the unmistakably large wooden structure. The premise had steadily grown in size since the first time she had seen it upon visiting. New additions had been gradually constructed over time as demand grew and the village flourished. Small floral gardens – her favourite part of the additions – now lined the outer walls. A new fenced-in activity area and what seemed to be a whole new wing had also been erected. This definitely felt much grander than before.

Her excitement only bloomed to new heights. The once humble and nondescript establishment used only as an infirmary now became a large, multi-purpose community centre for the village.

Her eager eyes then glanced amongst the growing crowd of children in the afternoon sun, searching for a familiar face that always held the warmest of smiles. Cheery voices and playful shouts bounced from the groups of youngsters as they enjoyed their midday break. She was still in deep concentration of her search until a crinkled voice diverted her focused attention.

“Aye, Rin-chan, it is very nice to see you again. It has been a while since ye last visit.”

Whirling around to the source of the greeting, an old woman emerged from the building’s entranceway. And just like that, the concentrated look of ponderous searching fell away once more to a smile so wide, it almost cracked. 

“Kaede-sama! I’ve missed you!” Rin ran to return the greeting, throwing dainty arms around the elder in a giddy hug, always a well of endless energy. She felt slow arms encircle her small frame, and imagined this was what a grandmother’s hug would have felt like. Her Lord would never display such actions, not that she minded at all. She just knew he showed his care in other ways. But nonetheless, she still found great enjoyment in the old woman’s embraces. They were always sweet and cozy.

Rin squeezed a teensy bit tighter before relaxing her hold and remembering her search. Angling to the side, she peeked around, not seeing the expected someone that would usually greet her.

“Where is Kagome-sama?” she inquired, head swivelling left and right to catch any glimpse of the woman.

Kaede looked pointedly past the young girl towards her approaching guardian, her jaw set firm in a way that spoke of an elder’s disproval at a youngster’s misbehaviour. It wasn’t meant for the girl, and so the edge in her voice was kept at bay.

“Kagome-san has taken some time off from instructing the lessons.”

Rin looked up curiously, head now reaching Kaede’s chin in recent growth. She didn’t catch the hardened glowering aimed beyond her, instead asking with a touch of concern, “Oh, why is Kagome-sama taking time off? Does she no longer wish to teach us? Is she okay?”

Kaede met Sesshomaru’s impassive façade with her own reproachful frown. He was now standing a few paces behind the girl still clung to her robes, and it would have been an impressive showdown of unwavering glares. But based on whom she was up against, she simply fell short.

No, he could do this all day, while her days were rather limited.

If only she had the luxury of time for such a contest. One does not live to such an age – at least for a human – by harbouring resentment at every foul, even though it may have been well-deserved. It had been a hard few weeks bearing witness to the aftermath of the daiyoukai’s last visitation. It was not only the physical healing that had been difficult to watch, but the emotional, too. She had seen how distraught her young prodigy had been, unable to find answers that only this demon lord could provide. And yet, it had taken him two full months to come around and show his face. Yes, there were only so many reasons one could stay miffed at a certain someone’s action, or in this case, inaction. But she just did not have the endurance for such, and since he actually _did_ return with his ward, she would not begrudge him any longer. 

Expression finally easing, Kaede eyed him warily with her one good eye, which had aided in making her appear just slightly more disapproving and a bit more resolute.

He did not utter a word, looking fixedly down his nose in wait.

Turning to face Rin still held in her arms, Kaede’s countenance softened, heaving a resigning sigh.

“Kagome-san has other matters to attend to for the time being.” She motioned towards the building. “Come join ye others, today’s lesson is about to commence.”

Sesshomaru watched as children of varying ages were soon herded into the building. Rin was among them as she waved him goodbye, while Kaede followed in without any further acknowledgement.

The displeasure from the old woman had been obvious, surely a result of the slayer’s influence and ridiculous ranting. Not that he had been bothered by such regard. He simply did not care for disrespect. If they had been anybody else, they would have met their end. And Rin surely would have been upset had he dispatched them like any other who would dare speak to him in such a manner. So he did not kill them. This time.

Either way, he did not care for what the ancient woman thought of him, as their interactions were kept to a minimal, limited only to those in which his ward was concerned.

But there was one piece of information piquing his curiosity. He rolled it around in his mind, turning it over to assess possible reasoning. But as the moments passed without arrival to a clear conclusion, he then decided to seek out the truth. 

Turning away, the daiyoukai went in search of a certain miko.

-X-

He had picked up the familiar scent easily amongst the swell of humans, following unhurriedly to the edge of the growing civilization. He passed by rice paddies as famers discreetly regarded him from their arduous tasks. Their quiet looks were not one of distrust, but of wary intrigue. They had become somewhat accustomed to these regular sightings, yet it still did not make the scene any less fascinating. The old miko had even called a town gathering some time ago, informing everyone to expect the lord’s visits and to not be concerned. It had been a precaution to reduce any unnecessary panic upon seeing such a powerful demon in their midsts, though most of the villagers were already accustomed to having youkai in their presence thanks to a certain hanyou, fox kit, and neko throughout the passing years.

But Sesshomaru was different. He was a full blooded daiyoukai with a reputation of being cold and viciously cruel to the bone. And Kaede was prudent to preserve the peace, not taking any chances on starting an inadvertent massacre caused by an ignorant slight. Anyone with common sense could discern the lethal acuity in which the inuyoukai carried himself; fully aware of all around yet neither interested nor cared for petty interactions. This was reason enough to leave him be, and to only observe his regal divinity from afar. They were heedful of the wise old miko’s precautions, and did not question much about the oddity in the Western Lord’s routine so long as it did not present any danger to the village.

And so the townsfolks remained at a respectful distance, while Sesshomaru paid no heed to them at all.

Soundless steps eventually led to a small clearing where the person of his search was spotted at the base of a towering timber. Large boughs shaded her from the sun as she sat upon a patch of mossy grass. Her head was leaned back against the solid wood, legs angled and tucked beneath bent knees. This was his first time encountering her again since last seeing her lying unconscious in the old miko’s hut.

Strange, he thought. The two months that passed had felt longer than it actually was. Even for his extended lifespan, two months was certainly just a drop in the ocean of his unending years.

Dismissing the intermittent purview of time, he approached, coming to a stop right in front of the seated form. She appeared to still be resting; eyes slid shut and features serenely relaxed. She was so still that it could almost fool someone into thinking she were asleep sitting up. But he knew the signs of a woken pulse, even if the body was solid as ice.

However, aside from being deceptively awake, something else had stood out to him upon arrival, something that had almost set him off kilter.

His gaze was focused on the covering that shielded half her face, its smooth surface reflecting bits of sunlight beaming between dense canopies, twinkling like fallen stars. Rounded edges ran nearly down the center, sloping only slightly to reveal full plump lips and a pointed nose. The shapely form was a perfect fit, and he knew exactly the purpose for which it had been commissioned. The damage concealed within was no secret to him, and though he had not seen the healed progress, he knew it to be severe. For anyone else, death surely would have been the expectant result, just like all others that had met his potent poison.

A frown scrapped at the corners then as memories flashed of melted sludge within his father’s tomb, singing loud with repressed irony.

No doubt she would have been dead this time around. But he had a suspicion that the pulse of reiki released that day was what had saved her, purifying the remaining acid before further damage could have been inflicted. It also did not escape his notice that within the elegantly constructed mask, was an almond-shaped opening where lashes and a closed eyelid currently peeked. Briefly, he felt a tinge of reassurance that the woman had not also lost her sight.

“Going on patrol?”

The miko’s sudden voice diverted Sesshomaru from his internal assessment. Her eyes were still closed, but there was a tick to her lips in a ghost of a smile. He had known that she was aware of him in her presence for the past little while. The slight change in breathing upon his approach had been an observable giveaway of her enhanced senses. But like a twitch of a tail of a spying cat, the rest of her had remained supremely still.

“I am,” he answered with a pause, remembering why he had sought her out, “Rin inquired of your absence.”

Kagome’s lids fluttered open at the mention of the ebullient girl, blinking sapphires seeing for the first time since her hour of meditating rest.

He was standing not even a yard away, right where she had assumed him to be based on the feel of his aura. But before she could even process his statement, the sound of Rin’s anguished cry echoed from the back of her mind. For weeks on end, thoughts of the girl’s injuries lingered night and day, constantly demanding an answer she could not provide. And it now had sped up to the forefront, whipping by in a cluster of tripping fret.

“Oh my gosh, Rin! How is she? How’s her arm?” she asked urgently as she stood, hands almost reaching to assuage her fears.

The sudden turn of emotions was incongruous with her peaceful demeanour mere moments ago. It was obvious she was troubled with not knowing the outcome of his ward’s health. He had half expected this reaction.

“Rin’s injuries have fully healed, you need not worry,” he assured, watching relief flood over at the confirmation of his ward’s well-being.

Kagome let out a breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding as her back sagged against the tree behind. “That’s good, I’m glad she’s okay. I was so worried when Sango told me her arm was broken.”

As tensions waned from stiff shoulders, blue eyes lifted to meet his amber gaze for the first time in months. He seemed as he always had, she realized. Same bland look of total indifference, of mastered detachment. Although currently upon closer inspection, there was something…expectant? She almost squinted to see if it was even there at all or if it was just her imagination.

And then it appeared – the subtle lift of an eyebrow.

Suddenly remembering what he had said, a spark clicked, and she cleared her throat out of nervous habit, answering the unasked question disguised as a statement.

“Kaede’s taken over in teaching the lessons for me. Rin’s in good hands,” she affirmed. He was always thorough when it came to matters with his ward.

There was a small upward tilt of his head in acceptance of her answer. But still, he wondered why she would be pawning off her tasks. He was about to inquire, but decided against, settling on a different route.

“You are skirting your responsibilities.”

Wait, was he chastising her? Slightly puzzled, she wondered if that had been a mild admonishment, and pushed the thought aside, not wanting to feel like a child being scolded for not doing chores. It wasn’t like she had just upped and left. She had made sure Kaede was there to cover for each of her lessons.

“I’m just taking a break,” Kagome explained.

“For what purpose?” From what he could tell, she was not ill, and seemed fully capable of resuming her usual assignments. The old miko had said she was attending to other matters, but to him it seemed she was simply meditating.

“I…” Kagome hesitated, eyes lowering and not really wanting to elaborate. “I just need some time off to put together new lesson plans,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t sniff out her fib.

When he did not further comment, she relaxed a bit more before remembering there was something else she had been wanting to say to him. Forgetting the previous topic, sincere eyes met honey gold once again.

“Rin got hurt because of me, I should have protected her better. I’m sorry for putting her in danger, Sesshomaru,” Kagome revealed solemnly with a bow of her head. “Please accept my apology.”

Guilt threaded her heart with a sharp needle at the inability to keep Rin safe. She had been entrusted with the girl’s care while Sesshomaru rounded his patrols. Even though his ward was older now and practically capable of taking care of herself in this era, Kagome still saw her as the little girl she had always known her to be. She couldn’t help but feel responsible.

And she had failed in keeping her safe.

Because Kagome was _not_ Sesshomaru.

She was _not_ the lethal guardian that Rin had been accustomed to. She was _not_ invincible, and _cannot_ fight with the same fluidity and grace.

She regretted journeying outside the village with such lack of defenses. It had been careless.

She regretted being _weak_.

A delicate brow furrowed marginally at the penitent tone spoken, not expecting such overflowing remorse emanating from the petite miko. He had not expected an apology; had not expected her to take responsibility for what had transpired. If anyone were to be accountable, it should have been him, for the surrounding area had unofficially come under _his_ protection in recent years. Her sorrow was stirring an uneasiness within him. It was a feeling he was unaccustomed to.

“You did well, given the circumstance. There is no need for apology,” he responded truthfully. He could have said nothing. Could have allowed the belief that it was her incompetence which had led to such a result. But he didn’t. And he found that he did not want her to believe that, either. Because it was not the truth, and he did not dally in hyperbole.

A timid smile lifted the corner of her lips then. She still felt terrible, but at least it didn’t seem he was mad at her incapability. Their delicate association was still intact, and for that she was decidedly glad.

Ever since the incident, fear had loomed over like a dark cloud at the thought of never seeing Rin again – that the bright young girl would never again get to spend time with Shippo and the friends made at the village – all because of Kagome’s ineptitude. It would be all her fault. Sesshomaru would take her away and never allow her to visit ever again; all because of the danger Kagome had put them in. 

But when the trickle of his unmistakeable youki licked at peripheral senses upon his earlier approach, she had been elated, because it meant she had a chance to apologize. And now that she had, she felt extremely grateful for his pardon. The Lord of the West was not known for giving second chances, ever. 

Her head lifted then, expression beaming with immense gratitude. “Thank you, Sesshomaru-sama.”

The look she aimed his way combined with the formal address of his title was almost startling, and he couldn’t help but stare back silently at such an exposition. It was astonishing that something as trivial as refusing her misplaced apology could elicit such a reaction. She took seriously the care of those under her protection, and just as seriously accepted responsibility for any shortcomings. It was an admirable quality, and he found that it pleased him that she would take such a stance for his ward. Of course, he had already known she would, as he would not have allowed for Rin to be under the miko’s supervision for as long as it had if that were not the case.

As Sesshomaru continued to remain silent, Kagome assumed the conversation was over and that he would be on his way. But his eyes stayed upon her, boring down so intensely she felt as though she were under a microscope. It was becoming unnerving as apprehension and self-consciousness slowly crept. She averted his unreadable focus then by looking away, dark bangs curtaining to veil disquieted insecurities.

Sesshomaru was cognizant of the way she was subtly trying to hide from him, causing the uneasiness felt before to grow even more unsettling at the motion.

He had initially sought out the miko to see how she was faring, to see the extent of his contribution to her disfigurement. And now that he had, he was unsure why he lingered. Her well-being was no longer at risk. However, something was keeping him planted there, unmoving. He felt an urge to vocalize something to the miko. But he had always been a being of few words, never the one to speak needlessly. Yet now, in this moment, the disquieting feeling pleaded for something spoken, for something to be rectified.

“What happened to me was not your fault,” she started softly, gaze flickering from the corner of her eyes. She had haphazard a guess as to what was going on in his mind by his blatant observation. After all, this was his first time seeing her since the incident, and she noticed he was staring intently at her mask without a blink. “You did what was needed to be done to save us. To save Rin.”

Kagome missed his momentary surprise, a quick flash before it was gone from the lines of gently raised brows. He had known her to be forgiving in nature, but had not expected such an admission. And once she spoke, relieving him of fault for his actions, a sudden lightness shifted like a brush of a feather.

Yet, something still weighed on him, like wearing wet clothes, and he was growing ever more aware of the nagging presence that clung uncomfortably. There was uncertainty on how he would respond now, pondering the fact of her statement, and why he was feeling disconcerted.

Yes, he had indeed saved her and prevented an untimely death; however, the injury suffered had been unnecessary collateral.

A consequence that was undeserving.

“And besides,” she continued speaking to fill the void. “It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t forgotten to bring Tessaiga with me.”

Wry amusement reflected back on their first meeting in the land between worlds, of the mystic blade’s protection offered against the same poison that had marred her skin. A bristling thought chilled her of what would have happened if more of that corrosive substance had landed. She’d be sure as dead.

But she was not dead. She was alive.

And Rin was safe, so she didn’t place blame on him one bit, despite the resentment Sango exhibited when recounting what had transpired. Kagome hadn’t felt one bit angry. A bit dejected, perhaps, but never angry.

After a while, she heard him say with finality, “It shall not happen again.”

Kagome lifted her sights to study the swirling depths of his glowing orbs, the only thing airing any signs of expression. The rest of his features were impassive as always, emotions kept under tight reigns. If only she was privy to what went on in that aristocratic head of his. He was an enigma out of reach.

Quietness instilled once again, though in a more comfortable manner leaving none of the perturbation from before. They both knew nothing else needed to be said on the matter.

Her sights then turned towards the tree behind as a familiar mark came into view, mood shifting almost instantly.

“I can still feel his presence whenever I’m here at the Goshinboku,” she divulged, changing the subject as a palm was placed against the ancient bark. It felt cool to the touch, a smooth roughness as her hand slid further down the enduring tree. For many more years – centuries even – it would continue to endure. “Do you ever feel it in the West?”

He did not immediately respond, instead taking time to consider the contemplative question. Memories reflected back on the day of his brother’s demise; his death brought on by the final confrontation with the malicious hanyou that sought destruction across Japan. Sesshomaru had been there to witness the resulting carnage as the final blow was dealt on both sides with staggering force. Though the brothers had forged a frangible alliance, they never had the chance to solidify the affiliation.

He recalled the sorrow and despair that had permeated the ragtag group, thick as miasma as they gathered at Inuyasha’s fallen form. The miko had thrown herself over his battered body, crying uncontrollably as tears streaked in endless rivers. The rest of her companions – the monk, taijiya, and the kit – had stood back in wordless mourning, allowing them their final moments in privacy.

He remembered the feeling of lost opportunity, and his decision to walk away from what could not have been changed. Even from the distance, his keen ears had picked up the exchange between his brother and the miko.

She had pleaded for him to live; to allow for Tenseiga’s revival. As preposterous as that might had been to Sesshomaru years ago, at the time, he had been willing to lend his sword. But the half-breed had decided on honour; to keep his promise to his first love and follow her in death. Needless to say, the miko was devastated, but admirable in her understanding. The hanyou’s decision had even managed to gain Sesshomaru’s respect for his loyalty – however, by then it had been too late.

It was that respect that had led him here, in this position that he was in, confabulating with said miko. The half-breed knew Sesshomaru had been nearby at the end of the final battle, and upon his dying breath, whispered a single request that only he could hear, carried liltingly through the wind.

‘ _Look after her for me, brother.’_

He had been there on the day of Inuyasha’s funeral. The pyre had burned long into the evening, and when the dying embers had finally faded into lingering swirls of smoke, the ashes were collected and placed into a simple urn. The miko had approached him late into the night requesting a small favour. She had asked for him to spread Inuyasha’s ashes over the Western Lands. Sesshomaru had been taken aback at first by the request, but she had been quick to explain that a traditional burial was typically done in a family grave, and since the Western Lands more or less belonged to their father – and now Sesshomaru – it would be more fitting and would allow his brother’s spirit to feel more connected to his ancestral roots. He had initially refused, but the determined woman pleaded with him to allow this one courtesy – to allow Inuyasha to finally have a family. With that last thought, he had conceded to her request.

His attention landed on the dented hollow upon the massive tree, the spot where his brother had been pinned to for fifty years. Not once, in those fifty years, had he gone by to see him. It had been a disgraceful notion; for a son of the Inu no Taisho to be sealed away by a priestess that also broke his heart. Such weakness had been purposefully erased from memory.

His voice was even and held a hint of palpable reminiscence, eyes taking on a slightly faraway look, reaching through to a distant past. “On rare occasions, I can sense the presence of my sire.”

Kagome gave him a wistful smile. “Perhaps, you’ll sense Inuyasha one day as well.”

Doubtful, Sesshomaru turned after a brief moment, and walked away from the miko, leaving her in the invisible mist of begotten memories.

-X-


	5. Collation

**Chapter 5 – Collation**

“Sesshomaru-sama…” Hesitation lined the murmured voice as two figures walked leisurely on this humid, late summer day. Wide brown eyes were glancing nervously up the broad back of the tall demon ahead.

Like always, the demon lord had trailed in front, taking the lead. Stopping mid-step, he pivoted slightly to regard the source of the voice. His ward was fidgeting the fabric of her pale yellow yukata, picking at threads as though they’ve committed some grave offence. Something was most definitely on her mind, so he nodded once for her to speak.

“I think… I think I want to stay.” Her tone was soft and levelled despite the stammering, but the beseeching look aimed his way revealed the anticipation felt beneath. She was seeking his approval for something of great importance, it would seem.

At first, comprehension was not forthcoming as to what she was referring to. But the truth quickly dawned at the resolve reflected in adoring eyes, and how the words were phrased as a statement as opposed to a question. There was only one cause to the nervousness emanating from the girl, so telling that even the nearby birds could feel the rippling tension upon their perched branches.

“You wish to remain at the village,” he acknowledged knowingly, hearing her breath of surprise at his accurate declaration.

He had known this day would eventually come. Two years had passed since he began taking her to his late brother’s village as a way to assimilate into human life. Though he knew she would have loved to remain in the Western Palace – had expressed so herself – deciding whether or not to live amongst humans permanently would be a choice she would have to make on her own. She had grown, and the time for her to start building a life of her own had swiftly approached.

The realization had struck him as quick and unexpected as lightning not long ago, a shocking discernment of how time had practically blinked to reveal a not-so-little girl before his very eyes. Her clothes were no longer fitting, hair trailing longer and more unruly that it needed to be cut, and a few inches gained to tower over a squawking retainer. But those had just been common indications of a developing child. What had been the real eye-opener, was finally noticing the dimming of her vibrancy on one cloudy, winter morning. In the quiet of his large estate, he had come across the girl listlessly staring out the window, watching snowflakes drift and drape over the gardens as though in a trance. When approached, she had flashed him a smile coated in a layer of melancholy that drooped her brows. It was a look that had seared deeply, and he knew she would never openly voice her discontentment to him. It was then that he had become fully aware of her increasing silence in those long winter months confined indoors. The weather had become too brittle for a child to travel along on his usual patrols, leaving her to wait out the cold in the comfort of his castle. But the signs were there. She was lonely. Her need of companionship was something that his cold, empty halls had no hope of ever providing for such a bright and spirited girl. Rin had always made do with whatever entertainment she could extract from the loyal kappa that watched over her in the Western Lord’s absence. But even then, Sesshomaru knew it would not be enough. She needed to flourish as she grew, and she would only dim in the shadow of his solitary lifestyle. Thus, he had decided on a gradual approach for exposure to the ways of her species. She needed first-hand experience, to know what it was like to live amongst her own kind.

Edo had been an easy, rational choice. The village had avoided the spider hanyou’s path of destruction, flourishing in activity within the two years since Naraku’s defeat. And because Rin had already begun bonding with his brother’s travel companions during their brief encounters – particularly with the miko and the kit – it had been an acceptable and logical choice.

And so, his offer had been made some time ago after conversing with the old miko of the village to obtain agreement. Their visits had increased steadily since, with Edo coming under the protection of the Lord of the West in exchange for the care of his ward.

It would seem that at the tender age of twelve, the girl was no longer little anymore, and was old enough to decide on her own path in life. Humans aged quickly, much too quickly.

He snubbed the trickling thought before it further spiralled.

“Yes, Sesshomaru-sama,” came the quiet confirmation, feet toeing restlessly in the dirt trail below while awaiting his reaction. It was a peculiar habit, one he wondered if it was uniquely hers or if humans were just prone to neurotic tics.

Mildly amused at the fretting churn within the girl as the silence prolonged, he decided to finally relieve her of such anxieties.

“Rin, you may stay in Edo.” 

Relief and gratitude shined on her upturned smile, so bright as though he had bequeathed to her the moon.

“Thank you, Sesshomaru-sama!” she beamed brightly, and their walk resumed.

She hadn’t been sure if he would say yes, and now thinking of it, she wasn’t sure if he would have had a reason to say no. After all, he had been the one to present her with the option in the first place. But he did say yes, so that meant there had not been reason for him to say no.

“Kaede-sama has been really kind, and started allowing me to help teach the younger children about gardening. I might soon get to teach a whole lesson by myself!” She began to prattle, always more talkative when in a pleasant mood regardless of the minimal responses received. Flowers had always been the girls’ favourite thing. It was not surprising her choice of lessons would be in botany.

However, the excitement in her tone dwindled as the following thought was voiced. “Though I do miss Kagome-sama, she always has the most interesting stories to share. I hope she comes back to teaching soon.” 

Intrigue was caught at the mention of the miko. He distinctly remembered it had been that strange woman’s idea and insistence to convert a worn down edifice into the facility it now became. It was uncommon for children outside of nobility to receive any formal education, yet she had been rather compelling and persuasive in the matter, for the village had agreed to her unconventional whims.

She had rallied enough volunteer tutors to begin lessons on life skills – such as gardening, herbalism, first-aid, and basic self-defense – while her own time had been volunteered towards instructing more academia topics such as reading and writing. Though more often than not, she had gravitated to also instructing first-aid. It was an exemplary use of her future knowledge in medical practices, he had conceded at the remembered fact.

The rationale had been tactically sensible; a singular proficient educator instructing a large group of children all at once freed up time from parents to tend to more complex tasks required in the village – tasks that were not safe to involve young children. It had been a reasonable trade-off.

 _Free baby-sitting_ , she had once called it. It was an unfamiliar term, but he had shrugged off the elusive meaning and had not bothered to ask for clarification. He did not care for what reasons humans would have for sitting on babies.

Her display of initiative had quite impressed. He knew she was educated, she had told him so. Yet, he had still been surprised at the _range_ of her educational background. Respect had been earned, and thus he had even donated funds towards further development of the facility. It would have benefitted his ward, and that had been cause enough to contribute.

With such brimming passion, it seemed very unlike the miko to have continued shying away from what would be considered a notable achievement.

“The Miko had not returned to her duties?” he inquired.

“No, my Lord. I have not seen Kagome-sama since the day we were attacked.” A finger twirled a loose lock of hair as short brows scrunched deep in thought. “Whenever I ask, Kaede-sama would say Kagome-sama is busy with other things and would not allow me to visit her. But I also heard from other villagers that she was still healing from the attack. I do not know of any injuries that would take so long to fully heal. I do hope she gets better soon.”

Recalling the day of the incident, sight of the miko’s injuries had been purposefully shielded from his ward. It was not a sight to be seen, for it would have caused further distress. Rin knew her mentor had been hurt – maybe a few cuts here and there, some bruising or a few broken bones – but the direct cause and severity had not been revealed to her. 

That incident had been nearly five months ago, and it had been three since his last encounter with the miko. Surely she should not be so ill as to take this long in recovery, should she? Her health had been adequate from his last observance; there had been no scent of any other malady upon her person.

The pondering of the miko’s peculiarity brought forth a familiar heaviness. An unaccustomed feeling, it hung like iron chains that weighed him down. Though unsure of the explicit cause, he knew it to be in relation to _her_.

As they continued their journey, Sesshomaru decided he would pay the miko another visit.

-X-

Delicious aromas floated from meats being cooked over the vibrant flames of the irori. The sunken hearth held enough space for multiple dishes to cure at once, sizzling and cackling sounds permeating Kaede’s mid-sized hut in charming comfort.

“Mmm… that smells great!”

Smiling eyes gleamed at the compliment as the woman looked over to her husband peeking in through the entranceway. “Damn right! Call the others, supper will be ready soon.”

“Of course, my dear Sango. Your cooking is always delicious – I am ever thankful for your culinary prowess.” The charm was laid on thick tonight, and the cook already knew what had been on the lecherous mind of her so-called husband. She chuckled at his transparent antics. 

Not long after, the humble abode filled with long-time friends as various dishes were arranged on the tatami mat. Seated around the copious meal, hungry gazes glimmered with joy as rumbling stomachs roared to life.

“You truly outdid yourself, my lovely wife” Miroku hummed, grabbing a bowl of rice while loading up pickled radishes and grilled fish. His violet eyes sparkled with mischief as he gave the cook a sidelong appreciative stare, earning him a rather smug snort.

Ignoring the undisguised madness of the obvious leer, Sango turned to the redhead sitting on her left, striking up conversation. “So Shippo, how long are you back for this time?”

However, before an answer came forth, the last of their group finally arrived. Scuffling step diverted attention and all paused to turn heads.

“Hey everyone, sorry it took so long, I had to finish pulling the weeds,” announced the newcomer while kicking off grass-stained sandals.

“Kagome!” A furry figure dashed up quickly and collided with the unprepared miko in a fervently tight hug. “I’ve missed you!”

“Hey Shippo,” she returned warmly, bending down to encircle the slightly grown kit while gently ruffling the messy gruffness of his fiery head. Kids grow up fast, and she was glad this one didn’t seem to grow quite as quick. After a long embrace, she leaned back on her haunches, maternal fondness gazing at the cherubic face of the little fox. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Ah Kagome, you are just in time. We were just getting started. Come sit!” Miroku scooted over to make room, one hand patting the floor beside him while the other held his piled meal.

Shippo grabbed hold of Kagome’s hand and quickly led her to the eating area, eliciting a soft giggle from her at his eagerness. Depositing the miko to sit at the spot indicated by the monk, Shippo took the seat on her other side.

He was always beside her, it was always his spot.

“Ye must be famished. Please, eat.” Kaede gestured to the spread meal, and reached to pour out some tea. “Sango-san has outdone herself today.”

An appreciative smirk twisted at the corner of Kagome’s lips as she made herself comfortable. “I can definitely smell the improvement.”

Chocolate-coloured hair whipped around as an icy glare shot at the teasing comment in feigned reproach, before fading into sisterly camaraderie. “I’ve had lots of practice, now that I have the proper tools.” She tried hard to sound miffed, but her acting was terrible.

Soft laughter suffused the room as bowls were filled and more tea was poured. It had been a while since they had all gathered for a shared meal like this, and all could feel the calming ease fall into place. 

When silence began to settle amongst enthusiastic chewing, Kagome turned her attention to the one excitedly stuffing his face with pink and green rice cakes.

“Little trickster,” came her slick address, “Tell me all about your big boy adventures. How are your trainings?”

Swallowing a mouthful of food, a tiny chest puffed at the reference of ‘big boy’. “It’s been great! I’ve learned so many new things I could do with my foxfire! Watch this!”

Wiping sticky hands on the blue of his pants, the youngster held up tightly clenched fists as all watched intently. Nose scrunched in concentration, palms finally opened as a burst of neon blue danced in a ball of flame from one hand to the other, swirling bigger and bigger as it engulfed the room in cyan luminescence.

The crowd _oooh-ed_ and _ahhh-ed_ , already impressed by the vibrant display. Shippo only smirked further before the lively flames contorted this way and that. Within moments, gasps echoed the room in amazement as the flames took on the form of a huge, blazing phoenix, taking flight with wide-spread wings. The stunning bird circled above craning heads and wide-eyes, before diving into the burning fire of the irori, exploding in brilliant colourful glimmers that showered the occupants like fireworks before slowly fading.

Claps and shouts bellowed in loud successions.

“Wow, Shippo, that was amazing!”

“Truly spectacular! What a transformation.”

“All those months away at kitsune trainings have definitely paid off!”

Chin tilted high, little arms crossed his chest in prideful agreement. “Told ya I’m getting better! I have a great sensei!”

Kagome’s heart swelled at such a sight, his smugness almost a miniature copy of someone she knew all too well. She sighed happily. Her little boy was growing up.

After the abundance of praises finally settled down, she turned to her friends to ask about their lives as well. “And how are things back at the village?”

The brunette placed down her half-empty bowl and looked upwards with ardent reflection. “We have been receiving a lot of interests from new recruits. The training program has grown exponentially.”

The monk joined the conversation in a sagely tone, speaking behind a cup of lukewarm tea. “Acceptance comes with caution, though. Not all who wish to join and train as taijiyas have good intentions.”

The miko’s brows knitted in thoughtful contemplation. She was well versed in understanding the concern. “How are you vetting them? I mean, wouldn’t it be hard to tell who has good intentions or not?”

“Kohaku has been very helpful with that. My brother seems to have a knack for sniffing out the rotten ones.” Perhaps it had been his experience with being held in evil’s grasp for so long that had allowed this sixth-sense of character perception. Sango could so easily tell that her brother had grown decades within just a few scant years. It was a cruel, cruel world, and she needed it to stop, even if just for a few moments, just for a pause. “We’ve already refused a few that were caught in their bigotry, whispering about how all demons should be eliminated just like in the old days of my father. I’m not going to stand by for that toxicity to spread.”

Miroku looked over to his wife’s determination, hearing the serrated edge in her words, almost withered like an old battle knife. He fully supported her stance. There had been enough tragedies from misplaced judgement, no need for any more. “Historic sentiments may not easily fade, but we will preserver.”

Kagome nodded her agreement. “I’m sure Kohaku’s kept busy then. Last time you mentioned he’ll be leading the program soon?”

“Actually, he started a while ago. He’s a natural at it, I couldn’t be more proud.”

“Which leaves my dear Sango with time to finally reap the benefits of married life.” The monk winked, snaking an arm around his wife. And just like that, the mood was once again light and feathery. He had seen the conversation heading into solemn territory, and needed to quickly divert least they put a damper on their current meal. So what better way? “Should we tell them now, my love?”

“Tell us what?” inquired the young fox, looking between the amorous couple. He had been busy with the rest of the sweet rice cakes, and had almost completely ignored the conversation up until this point. 

“I guess now’s as good a time as any then.” Sango blushed, facing her husband’s excitement. “Would you like to do the honours?”

Glancing around to see the full attention of cherished companions, Miroku beamed in proud splendour, and announced dramatically,

“I’m going to be a father!”

And just like that, cheers and congratulatory sentiments erupted in the room, radiating in true happiness for the welcomed news. 

Kagome flashed the couple a knowing smile after granting them well-wishes. The lovebirds had gotten married a few months after the final battle with Naraku, and had relocated to Sango’s old village to rebuild. The monk had been surprisingly patient, doing anything and everything to aid in proceedings, no matter how much he wanted to just settle down and immediately have children. Kami knows how long he’s waited for his signature pick-up line to come true.

The two, with the assistance of Kohaku, had studiously began fixing up the old town and welcoming those who had been displaced by warfare, steadily building up the population. It was nowhere near the size it had been in its glory days, but it was an accomplished start. Word had begun spreading of the reinstatement of the once infamous slayer village, and soon, those who knew of its decorated history flocked, wanting to learn the nearly-forgotten art of the taijiya. Many whom approached had been victims of malevolent youkai wreaking havoc when Naraku perished. It would seem that baser demons had grown increasingly bold once the main threat had been eliminated.

Wishing to keep the family’s legacy and traditions alive, Sango and Kohaku had welcomed the eager recruits, training and teaching them the art of demon slaying with the condition that they must use their newfound skills for good. Unlike the history of the once fallen village, they strove to preach kindness and fairness; to regard youkai not in whole as sinful, but as each its own individual being capable of both good and evil. 

It had pained to see her friends put their lives on hold, and that towns were still being attacked in this relative peace. Though it wasn’t that surprising; this was the Sengoku Jidai, after all.

Now a piece of the pain lifted to let brightness shine through, watching the couple bask in their jubilation. The firmness that lined the older woman’s serious demeanour had relaxed over time, no longer holding on to the grief of the fallen and the duty of vengeance.

Kagome was truly happy for the parents-to-be.

As their meals continued in pleasant chatter, a pair of emerald green eyes couldn’t help but trail intermittently to the one considered his mother figure. Through the elation from news of the pregnancy, something else lingered just beneath the surface of the young miko.

There was something strange in the way she sat quietly eating, attention half-focused on the chatter of Kaede’s wise advice for the mother-to-be on specific prenatal nutrients. 

A solemn veil shielded dulling eyes despite the smile that graced her lips. It almost seemed forced, now that Shippo’s had a chance to really look at her. A pang of sadness hit his little heart, dragging it down to his stomach in a twisted grip. He wanted nothing more than to take away his adopted mother’s sorrow.

When meeting up with Sango and Miroku before journeying back to Edo for the visit, he was informed of Kagome’s terrible injury. He had been wisely advised not to be alarmed, nor bring attention to the obvious matter. Needless to say, the whole journey had been distressing as his mind kept wondering how badly she had been hurt. And when she had come into the hut earlier at supper, he had held on to her like a lifeline, burying the will to cry at the sight of the mask adorned on her smiling face. It must have been _bad_ for such a disguise.

But he had been strong – willed himself to be strong – and held back tears with all his might and plastered on a sincere smile. He was a big boy now, and knew she would be distressed upon seeing his tears. Knowing how she is, she would only blame herself for his sadness. No, he couldn’t let that happened, and so he followed the advisement of his friends and kept brave, for her sake. 

Still, he could tell that she wasn’t the same as before. 

-X-


	6. Consumed

**Chapter 6 – Consumed**

The quiet of the landscape served as a peaceful backdrop to the choir of cicadas. A warm summer breeze swept through the glades of the countryside, trees swaying rhythmically in a coordinated dance. The sky was cloudless, paving way for a blanket of twinkling stars as the waxing moon illuminated the lands below.

A slender finger glided along the smooth edge of a small rounded cup, tracing the circular opening in a lingering caress. Seated indolently by a large open window, her head was propped upon an upturned palm as attention glinted towards the fading horizon.

She was awaiting an unannounced visitor, and had predicted the impending arrival. Even though the presence had always been partially subdued, trained senses had learned innately over time to pick up on the familiar signature headed her way with repeated frequency.

It was always faint, always at the farthest reaches of her peripherals. And whenever there had been any attempt to focus in on the source, to dig her arms in and _reach_ , it would blink out of existence, just like that.

But she had learned to spot it. Not easily, though. The tickling at the back of skin, ever so faint. The subtlest of change in the charge of the air – energized, ever so lightly, buzzing with microcurrents of electrons.

It was like the brewing of a spring thunderstorm.

After a few passing moments as the air grew just imperceptibly denser – just imperceptibly more charged – there was a rustle at the entrance, and footsteps followed.

The storm had arrived.

She mused at the lack of discretion to even knock. _Always doing as he pleases._

The visitor entered, stepping into the light as a glossy gaze slanted to where he stood, cerulean pools widening upon the lustre of ice and fire.

The warming glow of the heated hearth battled with the full moon’s ethereal luminescence, setting aglow sharp features of a perfect profile in hues of orange and blue. Long silver strands cascaded in silken waterfalls soft enough to float like wisps of smoke. Points of steel caught glimmers of reflected light, flickering in its precarious appeal. The sight was equally deadly as it was beautiful, and she wondered if the source was even aware of his allure.

Without facing him fully, she idly asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Sesshomaru?”

This was not his first visit to her home, but it was the first at this time of night. A curious thought pondered at what had brought him here.

There was an unusual tone to the woman’s demeanour in the way she spoke, in the lilt of her voice. Eyeing the ochoko and the nearby tokkuri, it was confirmation enough of what his nose had already scented upon entry.

“You are inebriated.” 

_Leave it to him to avoid the question._

Kagome gestured casually to the flask, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She seemed coated in blithe enjoyment. “Care to join?”

Glaring down a pointed nose, his reply held a hint of indignation, as though she had offered him week-old food. “Human saké has no effect on one such as I.”

There was never an appeal to him for the consumption. It hindered one’s perceptions and reflexes; made them vulnerable, made them fools. He had no need for such frivolities.

 _Of course not, his blood is probably more potent than alcohol poisoning._ She inwardly snickered at how absurdly true it might be. “Suit yourself. More for me.”

Shrugging, Kagome reached to refill her drained cup. If this royal being was there to just point out her state of intoxication at this time of night, she surmised there was neither immediate threat nor matter of importance to address. And so, the woman sipped on the warm liquid while waiting for the demon to state the purpose of such a visit. This was _her_ home after all, so _she_ shall do as she pleased. 

“You have ceased your lessons,” he pronounced after a moment of quietness, watching as another sip of the drink was gulped before a dribble of the clear brew coated sheen on her bottom lip. Judging by her sluggish movements, his assessment had been correct of her state of intoxication. He had not known her to be a drinker; for certain had never actually seen her indulge as she was now doing. He wondered when the habit had been picked up, or if it was even a habit at all and instead more an occasional frill. 

“How did you know?” She considered if that was all he had come to ask, or for what would be the reason for such a question. Had he been watching her? Here to scold her on _skirting responsibilities_ again?

“Rin,” came the baritone response, “Your lack of presence had been noticed.”

At that mention, a tendril of guilt began weaving a basket to hold her remorse. A decision had been purposely made to avoid contact with her pupils in recent months, and the children had been greatly missed.

Yet, the notion of such a reciprocal observance had been lost on her, contrition settling in for worrying Rin. She had wanted to see the girl, and catch up as they normally would have in the past and share stories of their time apart. But no matter the cause, Kagome couldn’t bring herself to seek her out. Instead, she had hid away, attending to back-end chores reprieved from prying eyes of the villagers.

And now, realization dawned on how it may have seemed like the girl had been thoughtlessly abandoned by her mentor.

She felt a pit in her stomach, swooshing with the liquids of her repression.

He noted the sudden change in her expression, a sullenness shadowing the miko’s eyes as traces of prior playfulness fell away. Her back hunched, looking as though she’d shrunken into herself; hiding under her own skin, if that were even possible. 

Meanwhile, she undoubtedly deduced that he was expecting some type of response or explanation, the question persistent behind the statement.

And maybe this time, she didn’t want to take the detour, didn’t want to take the shortcut. Because he might circle the same topic again like a vulture over a dead carcass, left rotting in the scathing desert, picked to the bone.

How did the saying go?

_Can’t go over it –_

_Can’t go under it –_

_Can’t go around it –_

_Got to go through it –_

She didn’t feel like lying to him, not again. Feeling resigned, she answered candidly. “They’re frightened.”

_Frightened?_

Had there been danger? Who was? Frightened of what? There were many questions, yet he remained waiting for elaboration, standing still by the firelight, the warmth licking at his boots.

Her lips moved though no sound escaped. She was combing for the right words to speak, and after a while, Kagome released a sigh. The puff of air billowed out with remnants of the bittersweet aroma before she drained the remains of her cup.

“The children,” she began slowly, grabbing the flask by the tapered neck and pouring to the rim before taking another swig, oblivious to the flash of disproval casted her way just now.

“I had tried a few times, coming back to teach, before I got this.” A pointed finger tapped gently on the solidity of her mask, a little clicking noise as her nails rapped against the hard material. “I had a shawl covering before, and one day it had slipped off during a lesson.”

He listened as her eyes glazed over, recalling visions of the fearful looks received from many scared adolescents that day. Some had screamed, some claimed her possessed. Some claimed her evil in disguise.

“They look at me differently now, and it distracts them. It’s better I no longer teach.” There was sombreness in her words, gliding over to him in barely a whisper, draped in something dark and hollow.

The frightful reactions had been hard to face, but she also remembered the looks of _pity_. It was _those_ looks that cut the deepest, _those_ looks that had the most impact. The fear would have faded into understanding, and then to commiseration with murmurs of sympathy.

But it was those pitying stares that remained painted, that lingered and haunted, that drowned her ship with bags of sand. They regarded her like broken china; a delicate, once-pretty thing, forever damaged.

It was a reminder that she was weak.

That she _is_ weak.

Unable to protect.

A different set of striking gold irises and rugged white hair clouded her vision then, replacing the space where her daiyoukai guest stood.

_Unable to protect Inuyasha._

It was a reminder of her failures. He had depended on her, finally believed in her, yet she had failed at the most critical moment when it counted.

The bow had rung a second too late, sounding so out of reach.

The enemy’s final blow had lashed out just before her arrow hit true.

_Too late when it mattered._

Naraku had taken a piece of her with him that day in the form of her best friend.

Her protector.

A piece of her shattered heart.

And though it had taken some time to mourn – to find relative peace – the pitying stares had triggered an avalanche of guilt and stirrings of inadequacy. For it was due to her inability to protect Rin – against such a mindless and lowly youkai, no less – did all the pain came pouring back as if the last two years had gone by in only two days.

It had made it difficult to face the children, to face those stares, for them to see her so scooped out like ghost in a shell. She didn’t want them to worry, and didn’t know how to deal.

It had all come crashing back – roof falling, caving in under the weight of her sorrow.

Now she carried a reminder of her failings; a marring that would trigger each dreadful memory. It had been her own shortcomings that had led to such.

Again, it had been a failure of duty to protect, and so it was a deserving punishment for careless negligence.

Shaking her head free of the ghastly visions, she downed another drink before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Either way, Kaede’s got it covered with the rest of the tutors, so Rin’s not missing anything, I’ve made sure of that.”

Sesshomaru had remained still and watchful as she revealed her reasons, picking up each hitch of breath to find cracks field-wide in the unspoken undertone.

No, Rin’s lessons had not been interrupted, for that he knew. Nonetheless, he had been, admittedly, a bit curious as to why the miko had resigned, already knowing it had not been due to physical illness or injury.

And yet, the rationale given seemed incomplete – a story without an ending. There was more to the tale, but answers were not forthcoming. He could almost touch the sadness that clung to her, growing densely in strands of vines, hanging heavy with a bitter aftertaste as her eyes took on a faraway look.

It pressed on his senses stiflingly.

However, something else pulled at him from the inside, crawled to the surface from some hidden place. A restless prickling that had only recently emerged in relation to the miko; one that he still did not recognize, but knew it to be unpleasant. It was rather puzzling, so the notion was pushed aside for later examination, still unsure of what had prompted it, nor how to rid himself of it.

“Outward appearances have no impact on your capabilities to teach, Miko. They should not concern themselves with such,” he offered in a way to reassure. Not that he had to, or wanted to. Perhaps he felt she needed to hear it.

She looked at him then, seeing those same calculating lines that defined him.

Lines that made him _so –_

Logical as always, she was almost envious of such easy disregard. But still, “It’s not the same. I’d rather leave them in capable hands, where there’s no distraction.”

Deep down hid the true reason for not wanting to face the kids; to face the dozens of sorrowful glares aimed her way.

It could break her.

It probably _would_ break her.

She didn’t know if she could endure.

_Not again._

Glowing eyes like rounds of fire in the dimly lit room bore into her unblinkingly, capturing her reflected gaze in a relentless hold, challenging her to show her cards.

But she did not waver, and he did not know why he felt the need to know her reasons, other than the fact that she was Rin’s tutor. And perhaps finding good tutors were few and far in between, so maybe, that was reason enough to want to know why she would want to resign.

He pried a little further, prodding away at her defeatist attitude. “Your skills will have gone to waste.”

Her head shook lightly, wavy hair bouncing side to side down to her narrow waist, catching his eye in the glow of the fire. “Enough has been passed on to others. They’re proficient and able to relay the subjects. They don’t need me there as well.”

“I was under the impression that it had been your passion,” he spurred. Sesshomaru still did not fully understand her reluctance. So what if her appearance caused a little distraction? They should have more discipline than to let that be a detriment to their goals.

But no, he _knew_ there was something else she was not saying, the words between the words. 

“It is.” Her answer came cold and curt, before she poured and drank. The skin on her cheeks had warmed to a rosy pink, whether from the alcohol or from the heat of the fire on this hot summer night, she did not know. Perhaps it had been both.

There was a challenging tilt to his chin as the demon continued to rouse, wanting to rile, ignoring her attempt at dismissal. “Your actions speak otherwise.”

He watched as her fingers twisted, along with her lips, pulling downwards.

Then she slammed her empty cup down onto the wooden ledge, echoing sharp as spears, annoyance rearing like an unwelcomed insect as she looked into his emotionless face. “ _Please_ , Sesshomaru, why do you care so much?” 

She was peeved. Couldn’t he tell that she was done with this line of questioning? This was so unlike him, unlike the Lord of the West to question so adamantly something as trivial as her occupation. Why was it his business? Why all the questions? Couldn’t she just wallow in her own mess for once without anyone’s intrusion?

Normally, appreciation would have been acknowledged at his uncharacteristic chattiness, but at this point, she just wanted to drop the topic altogether as if it scalded.

Piercing eyes hardened at the rise of her voice as his next words sliced. “Do not presume that I care. It was merely an observance.”

“Then just let it be,” she edged exasperatedly. Can’t he just let it go? Why did it matter to him when it did not impact Rin’s studies? It was utterly confusing, and offhandedly frustrating.

Another cup was poured as she finally turned rudely away from him, indicating an end to the conversation.

Normally, Sesshomaru would have punished such impudence.

But she was not normal, not per this era’s standard, and he was not angered at the disrespect. He had not been for a long while now, used to her unorthodox mannerisms. The miko had always been expressive, sometimes even explosive. It was a trait he had taken notice of throughout their sporadic cordial encounters.

No, he was not angered. He was, actually, mildly regaled at her fluctuating temperament. It was a silly thing. And perhaps he had finally grown bored with all the grovelling of his servitors, and that her untamed remarks were _different_ , that he had allowed it.

Conceding to her plea, he deflected to something else, sounding almost snide. “Do you not think that you have had enough to drink, Miko?”

“Why, did you want some?” she sneered.

 _Now_ she was feeling petulant. Perhaps she _has_ had too much to drink, feeling her cheeks burn up in irritation.

But there was no backpedalling now at his smugness. Oh he was rousing her ire, for his amusement, no less!

“No. As I have said – ”

“Right, not effective on demons,” she blurted mockingly, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. Feeling unusually combative tonight, perhaps the saké had worked a bit _too_ well in the courage department. 

A very low growl reverberated from behind, causing her to quickly turn around, pulse increasing in mild horror.

 _Oh crap,_ she thought with an ounce of frigid dread, _maybe I_ have _gone too far…_

Looking up to see the familiar face of mastered stoicism, the sudden tenseness from fleeting panic relaxed as she noticed an upward tick at the corner of his lips.

He was playing her!

_Had me fooled._

Slowly, Kagome smiled meekly, apologetically, knowing he would understand the unspoken gesture. Though they were not _friends_ , per se, they _were_ on acquainted terms. Possibly friendly, even. Through passing encounters and momentary visits, she had uncovered subtle cues in his features that were normally kept under lock and key. Still overall unreadable in almost all instances, there were a few tell-tale quirks she had picked up on, such as the nearly invisible smirk when he was amused.

For reasons unknown, Sesshomaru felt marginally lighter, fading away some of the heaviness he had tried to push aside earlier. Deciding now was a good time to address the other reason for his visitation, the news was shared in brevity. “Rin has decided to remain at the village. She will be living with the old miko.”

Large blue eyes locked on him in open fascination, as though in shock, before Kagome sprang up, dashing the few steps over to the daiyoukai.

Without warning, her arms were wrapped around him in a vicious hug, the miko pressing into the flat of his armour.

Sesshomaru was caught off guard at the sudden embrace, not expecting her to have been so bold.

He stood still, unmoving.

The moment stretch on.

She wasn’t letting go, and he found himself reluctant to push her off him.

As another achingly long moment crawled by with neither pulling away, he finally let a clawed hand rest delicately on the curve of her back, returning the gesture, before allowing himself a single stroke of her lustrous, onyx hair.

-X-

A/N: _Ochoko_ is a small cup for drinking saké, and a _tokkuri_ is the flask/bottle that contains the saké. So yeah, I gave Kagome a drinking problem. Anyone counted how many cups she poured? _Cheers!_


	7. Restless

**Chapter 7 – Restless**

Omnipresent youki roiled through the empty halls, its creeping tendrils gripping each crack and crevice in a strangling hold. The power was riled thick, yet remaining as still as the lake of the unliving and as deep as the ocean’s abyss. It was the calm before the tumultuous storm.

Hairs were raised on precarious ends. Those with sense had scattered and made themselves scarce. Those who couldn’t, bore the weight upon tight-sealed lips and feather-light steps. Slight reprieve came to the castle’s residents in the form of knowing the difference between raging anger and oppressive discontentment.

Within the extensive compound, polished wooden floorboards creaked longingly as short strides hurried throughout the halls, followed by heavier footfalls. Two figures treaded stretching corridors and rounded corners within the maze of dimly lit walls. Shadows coated visions of painted grandeur, hung forever still to be admired only in passing, destined to become faded tales of myths and legends. Empty rooms moaned from the pressing of wind in alien wails, singing a cry that was soundless as soon as one would attempt listening to its whispered mourn.

Their gaits were measured and tactical in practiced movements, the winding path engraved vividly in memory suiting the commands of their posts. Coming upon the last turn and approaching a set of wide double shoji doors, three successive knocks sounded sturdily in the stifling ether.

“Enter,” came the singular command, leaving no moment of hesitation as the visitor slid open the shoji.

The smaller of the two hastily entered first, prostrating immediately before his master in the center of the echoing room. The taller figure followed, bending stiffly at the waist into a respectful bow a few paces beside the grounded imp. Though the atmosphere was tense – had been for the past few weeks – the taller figure inwardly chortled at the retainer’s obvious cowering as both awaited their address.

“Jaken,” the baritone voice echoed in the vastness of the study, eliciting a startled jump from the kappa, almost skinning out of his little bones. “Leave us.”

With a trembled nod, the little youkai arose from the floor, bulbous yellow eyes not daring to peer up as he retreated. The ancient Nintōjō carried in tiny green hands tapped noisily with each step, rattling with his jittering nervousness as the shoji slid shut upon exit, tiny footsteps scurrying away.

And now there were two. The atmosphere remained viscous.

“General Takeshi,” Sesshomaru began, attention lifting from the half-read correspondence in hand. “Tell me of what news you bring.”

Seated behind a low table made of solid oak, his focus rested upon the guest in his study, scrolls and paperwork lying forgotten upon the desk.

The General gave a small curt nod as he straightened from his bowed position, yellow-green eyes emitting an inner sheen in the flickering candlelight. The paper-thin expression upon the lord fuelled haste to his update, bypassing decorum to get straight to the point.

“The rogue demons in the East have started spreading into our territories,” he began, voice like a blacksmith’s hammer upon wooden stumps. “They are attacking some of the human settlements along the border thus far. We are monitoring the situation.”

Silence stretched as Sesshomaru sifted through potential ramifications of the revelation, claws trailing idly along the wood of a tattered scroll. 

The news was not unforeseen to say the least, especially since the Eastern Lord had been becoming lax in his old age. Warnings had been issued to tighten control of his domain’s affairs, yet the fool was never as dutiful, spending recent years dallying with his many leeching concubines.

And now, his mess was spilling onto the Western lands.

 _Another annoyance to be dealt with,_ the daiyoukai begrudged, eyes reflecting a burnished copper from the single flame upon his desk. “The motive?”

Watchful of his lord’s reaction, Takeshi was not surprised when mild displeasure sounded from the orotund inquiry, as though oil slicked with galvanized steel.

The muscles in his weathered jaw pulled taut like the skin of a drum, glowering as he recalled his soldier’s reports. None of the attacks had signified any strong youki; all traces were of low-level demons crawling out from whatever gutters they had been hiding. Having all eyes and ears on the ground, Takeshi’s troops had been one of the first to have notice the trend. Apparently, the spider hanyou’s disappearance had marked the steady return of these vermin, no longer in fear of the threat of being absorbed into a single being. Though baser in intellect, these creatures had enough sense to not attack any youkai settlements in hordes, only targeting human villages in mindless raids.

Even so, clean-up duty was not what he would have considered productive work.

An irking scowl traced the firm lines of Takeshi’s grim-swept mouth as he thought of the raids, the wrinkling between his bushy brows set deep. “The attacks have been sporadic. I highly doubt anything of significance to emerge of it.” Huffing his annoyance, he added, “It is just a bloody nuisance.”

This had been another reason why the West had claimed a watchful duty over Edo in the East. The Eastern Lord cared naught of human occurrences, leaving the mortal rulers to fend for their own civilizations. And to be fair, neither did Sesshomaru. But Edo was an outlier, for obvious reasons.

“Hn,” sounded Sesshomaru’s agreement, his calculative bearing meeting the sliver-thin pupils of his General. “Continue surveillance and report any major developments. Otherwise, deal with it as you see fit.”

A tilt of head signalled the General’s understanding, his single long braid slinking from high bindings, the onyx of his hair rivalling the blackness of the ink pot upon the occupied desk. His features were cast in shadows of the lowly lit room, the soft candle glow providing only enough light to outline the warrior’s sturdy silhouette, refracting slightly from the metal of his plated armour and the points of his claws.

“Sesshomaru-sama,” he gruffly added, sensing the impending dismissal as Sesshomaru picked up a thin parchment to resume his work. “There is something else to report.”

The youkai lord paused his work, motioning for his General to continue.

Knowing the next piece of information would only add to his master’s already volatile mood, Takeshi straightened his spine and steeled his voice in the most levelled manner one could possibly use for conveying unfavourable news. “It would appear that Lord Kuma has passed away. His first born had issued a challenge for his title.”

Sesshomaru remained silent, and Takeshi could practically see the implication reciting through his lord’s mind. Because he, too, was likely thinking the same. It was this piece of information that had prompted his hurried arrival back to the shiro, not wanting to delay the news as it pertained to the West. Years of loyal service had taught him a thing or two about timeliness, recalling painful lessons of tardiness. Not that he had many of _those_ lessons to learn from – once was quite enough.

And learning through observance was a lot less painful.

“So,” the daiyoukai finally remarked, contemptuous in tone, appearance still unfazed. “Kenzou has become the new Lord of the South.”

It came as no surprise. It was only a matter of time before the impetuous offspring of the old bear grew impatient enough to issue such a challenge. His covetous desire for the royal title had only grown over time in his devouring greed. It was a pity, though. Lord Kuma had been a decent commander, a long-time ally of the West since the days of Inu no Taisho. However, his two sons are of an entirely different sentiment, vocalizing their discontentment of the South’s position in their centuries-old treaty with the West.

The parchment crumpled at the sour thought, edges punctured from sharpened clawtips that grasped it.

Takeshi shared Sesshomaru’s dismay with the turn of events, for he knew problems would arise in the foreseeable future. This would only complicate matters, and he was not looking forward to having his job made more difficult by this new pest. “I have instructed our troops to keep closer lookout for any new proceedings. You will be the first to be notified, my Lord.”

Appeased with the course of action, a single nod was given before issuing his quiet dismissal. “That is all.”

-X-

After Takeshi had left his study, Sesshomaru continued perusing the various unread missives sprawled across his desk well into the night. By the time the candle dwindled to a shortened stump and receding smoke, only half the affairs had been addressed. Annoyance had already sprouted too deep to ignore, his vexation growing like weeds while concentration slipped like an eel.

The unravelling events of the South would soon draw attention from the other Cardinal Lords. It would only be a matter of days before the official announcement of Kenzou’s new stature would reach his domain, along with demands for changes to their _alliance_. It was a matter he’d rather not address, for it would be a complete and utter waste of time.

Finding it useless to continue with the pile of mundane paperwork, he dropped the current partially-read parchment like a discarded rag, turning towards the moonless sky while purging all thoughts of duty and courtly obligations.

Black clouds blanketed opaquely, sucking in shadows from the ground below. Not even a glimmer from the vast net of stars had been able to streak through its greedy cloak. The earthly petrichor permeated the damp air in its musky scent, potent and inviting. There would be rain tonight, a welcomed break to the season’s dry spell.

Options were contemplated as Sesshomaru soon rose from his desk, strolling over to the balcony overlooking the private gardens.

The pond that normally reflected evening moonbeams now stood starkly still in melanic bleakness. Various blooms would have shimmered upon the soft radiance, but on this night, they remained dull and hidden in the clutching darkness.

A feminine melodic hum would have flittered from the stone bench under the large sakura tree overlooking the pond. Yet tonight, no such sounds were heard. Nor would it be heard again on this estate.

Such a notion delved into a tugging frown as his lids shut from the view below. Taking in a deep breath, he let the coolness of the soft wind pull him further into the calling storm, once again forcing all distracting thoughts from consciousness, closing them away behind his eyes.

He scented the air once more.

The night was ripe for a good hunt, a sweet taste to all beasts of prey.

-X-

Massive energy had coiled and exploded from his master’s study, rattling the entire palace in its impressive intensity strong as lightning. It had rendered him shaking to the bones from his station just outside the shoji, collapsing to the floor in terror while awaiting the aura to lessen, afraid to even make a sound or move a muscle. It was only when it began subsiding did he slowly slid open the door to peek in, then opening more widely to gaze up at the monumental sight that greeted him from outside the balcony.

Icterine eyes stared widely in awe at the massive form in the open sky, youki emitting an ethereal glow against the tenebrous backdrop.

It was a rare sight to behold; a Cardinal daiyoukai in all his glory, untethered by restraint and unleashed in unbridled power. He watched as his lord dashed into the night in his true form, a set of sanguineous red against snowy white mane.

It had been a long time since Jaken had last bore witness to such a transformation. So long that he had forgotten the imposing aura such a transformation affected; the buckling rawness that rattled joints and shattered souls, the reverberation that broke shields and wills.

Still standing frozen in place, it was long after the beast had disappeared from sight did he begin to relax, a jittering shudder stabbing down his short spine at the thought of any poor creature sure to shortly meet the points of those death-ridden claws.

Every being in the castle had been on edge for the past few months, yet the past few weeks had them exponentially tense, teetering on petrification at the summons of the Western liege. None had dared to ask, and thus it remained a mystery as to their lord’s foul mood. Guards and servants had taken every precaution not to cross paths unless absolutely mandatory, even Jaken had surreptitiously avoided contact, keeping his usual grovelling at a minimal.

Standing back at his post, the green imp began reflecting upon his master’s mood, wondering when it had taken such a spiralling change. He traced the last few weeks in his boggling mind, tallying up any incidents or occurrences what would cause such a stir.

There had been no issues at the manor, nor had there been any major grievances in the court or on the field, this much he had been able to gather from the sentries and the General.

Turning every event back and over, his grumblings stopped suddenly as a sparking connection triggered a dawning revelation.

This had all started after coming back from his last patrol in the East.

From when he had arrived home without his human ward.

Without _Rin_.

-X-

Vermilion droplets fell from elongated fangs, staining the wet sward below in a viscous pool of cherry black crimson. The limp carcass of an unsuspecting doe hung lifelessly from monstrous jaws, snapped in pieces by the force of its unrelenting predator. With a rumbling growl, the head of the beast flicked, flinging away the remains of its seventeenth kill like a limp piece of war-torn grass.

The beast had roamed until the rain had ceased and the horizon began to lighten, hunting down prey after prey in carnivorous thirst. A torturous game of hide and seek.

It had been so very long since he last hunted with such vigor; wholly unconfined and unrestrained. A freeing sensation had washed through him like a mountaintop stream, channelling deep into pulsating veins, seeping down colossal limbs to the bottom of muddy paws. 

As predicted, the storm had come in lightening fury, a refreshing addition to the disquieted ambiance that felt dank and murky in comparison. Yet even with the gratifying crunch of brittle bones between his teeth, he still had not been able to shake the aggravating feeling that lingered for the past months, nor the added heaviness from the past weeks. Something was prickling from under his skin, and he knew not what. It felt as though he was too big for his body; too much to hold in, on the cusp of overflowing.

And yet when he transformed, thinking that perhaps it was due time to release it all, it had been somewhat bittersweet, and had resolved nothing.

Not even the metallic sweetness of a fresh kill had satisfied the uneasy restlessness. Despite the momentary thrill of the chase, the un-caging of his beast still did not solve the predicament at hand, causing him to become even more irate. Skin still prickling, he felt himself stretching thin.

A blood-stained snout lifted skywards as a ferocious howl reverberated from deep within, causing the surrounding thickets to tremble and sway. Any remaining fowl flocked away from such a sound, lingering forest critters fleeing in all directions as if the earth caught fire.

And _still_ , the inuyoukai remained voracious and unsatiated.

He released another minacious snarl as hot air puffed through flaring nostrils to burn the air. The prior irksomeness had grown into full blown frustration, walking the on the blade of undefined temper, and he needed to steam out the rage before heading back to the castle. It would be unwise to lay waste to the Western Palace without clear reason.

Large paws stomped in crushing prints as two hind legs suddenly kicked back, forcefully launching the untamed hound up and out of the forest for another run, wild wind rushing through sleek furs damp from rainwater.

In the dawning twilight, glaring red rubies shined cravingly, searching for its eighteenth kill. 

-X-

A/N: _Nintōjō_ is the Staff of Two Heads that Jaken grips to like a damn lifeline or a walking cane. He’s pretty useless without it otherwise. Also, I’ve gotten some questions as to what’s going on in Sesshomaru’s mind. All will be revealed throughout the story. I’m not one to show all my cards upfront, but I do hope some of the hints will be enough to take a guess.


	8. Obligations

**Chapter 8 – Obligations**

He did not have reason or cause for such purposeless wandering. Yet once again, he had found himself unknowingly drawn to the familiar outskirts of a sleeping village, down a dirt-trodden path, towards a beckoning wooden structure.

Duty of patrol, he had surmised to himself of the basis for being there. Because it was true. The surrounding area was part of the settlement slated for protection. And thusly so, this was simply duty.

Even then, the taste of faux rationale was a grating flavour as he sat quietly, drinking tea out of a ceramic cup.

His eyes perused the confines of the simple dwelling, landing upon a singular chest where clothes lay piled in disarray. Swathes of red and white spilled over the edge as the worn material brushed carelessly along the flooring. Beside the wardrobe stood a small table housing miscellaneous trinkets; mementos collected from a past life, he presumed. Unlike the mess of her tossed clothing, these items were neatly lined along the flat surface in clear display, evident of their importance.

An origami crane perched, a minimally decorated comb lay atop a small lacquered box, a simple quill rested, and a few other items he did not recognize for its uses were methodically placed. 

Upon notice of these strange items, his attention lingered on the vibrant colours of a rectangular object. It resembled a miniature painting of some sort, though the details were too precise for any painting he’d ever seen – as if painted by a flea, and perhaps that was plausible, possible even.

Upon closer inspection, small faces clustered within the tiny frame, the one in the center easily discernable as the woman currently seated across from him. Her likeness captured with perfect clarity, she stared back contentedly, surrounded by those assumed to be family members from the other side of the mysterious well.

_The Bone Eater’s Well._

A memory jogged of a not-too-distant past – of the day he had finally uncovered the strange woman’s origins.

_._

_He landed a short distance away from his destination, opting for a leisurely walk the rest of the journey when a salty breeze drifted through. Had it been any other, he would not have paid it any notice. But while travelling along, the familiar scent only grew stronger and further piqued inane curiosity._

_He followed the direction, coming to a clearing where his brother’s miko was spotted alone._

_The dark-haired figure stood with her back towards him, unaware of the concealed presence approaching in practiced stealth. Shaky arms were braced against the ledge of an old well that had long since dried, now only coated with the stench of withered bones and bucolic earth. Blunt nails dug into the ancient wood as her head hung low, tears shedding generously into the hollow structure’s depths._

_“Miko,” he called from behind, causing her to stiffen in sudden alertness, almost frightened._

_Whipping around to face the intruder, eyes were wide in brief panic before recognition set in. Releasing a sigh of relief, rattled nerves were calmed from trembling hands._

_“Sesshomaru…” he heard her sniffled in greeting, wiping at the wetness on swollen cheeks with the back of billowing sleeves. “S-Sorry, you just scared me a bit, sneaking up like that.”_

_“I do not sneak,” he remarked haughtily, noting her dishevelled appearance. The ceremony would soon take place, yet the woman seemed unsuitably dressed. “Should you not be making preparations?” he questioned pointedly._

_“I’ve still got time. Most things have already been taken care of.” She made a final swipe at clouded eyes before curling into a sad smile. It was her first time seeing him wearing anything other than the typical white silks and spiked armour. The obsidian of his tailored robes stood starkly against pale skin, and she found the sight comforting in its novelty. “I didn’t know if you would come. I’m glad you are here.”_

_Despite her attempts, the salty wetness still trailed from glazed blue eyes, drenching the air with each grieving drop. A fazing scene, the sight of the crystalline liquid made his brows cinch in dismay._

_Disregarding its perplexing effect, he commented with indifference. “Your tears should be reserved for the funeral.”_

_She touched her face then, unsurprised at the free-flowing waterworks, and gave a half-hearted chuckle that sounded foreign to her ears. “Oh these aren’t for him.”_

_Turning back to peer down into the once mystic portal, wilted voice nearly cracked as she admitted the kept secret. There’s no harm now in him knowing anyway, and the urge to share suddenly ruptured like a bursting damn. “The Well won’t let me go back home.”_

_The woman was speaking in riddles – was Edo not her home?_

_“And where is ‘home’?” he inquired at the confusing statement, agog to solve a puzzling piece._

_“It’s not where,” she began, finger trailing along the comforting wood. “It’s when.”_

_._

“Sesshomaru?” her soft voice called, pulling focus away from the fading memory and back into the dreary room they occupied.

Cool eyes swivelled to the woman in front, her hand waving lightly side to side to gain attention like a flocking bird. Blinking once, the cup he held was brought to his lips, letting the drained essence of steeped leaves wash over a refined palate.

“You seemed like you just spaced out for a moment there.” Her head titled, cocked to the side in a childish manner while keeping gaze with his unreadable stare. “What’s on your mind?”

What _had_ been on his mind? He usually was not one to drift. Mindlessly drifting was something he did _not_ do. Much.

After an imperceptible moment of hesitation, he answered dismissingly. “Nothing of importance.”

The tinge of confusion at his _spacing out_ melted away as her lips pressed into a fraudulent smile. It was then that he noticed a sunken pallor that had not been there before.

Usually plump cheeks now seemed hollower and lacking in colour. Even with the hearth’s warm glow, a ghostly grey screened previously tanned skin like a coating of dust. Contours were sharper, more pointed and brittlely thin. Deep shadows ran down the jutted columns of an exposed neck as deeper shades curved behind protruding collarbones, looking as though her skin had shrunken and stretched. The mask she adorned only exacerbated the withering image, casting more of her features in ashen hues. 

_Malnourished._

The woman clearly had not been taking care of herself.

The change was eerily disturbing, a rapid decline since his last visit over a month ago. Sesshomaru wondered if she had been eating at all, or if her sustenance had only been in liquid form, as though chewing would have taken too much effort. She did seem a bit… languorous. Or perhaps that was the effect of the saké.

He watched closely as frail fingers loosely grasped the bottle to serve another cup, once again pouring close to the brim.

When he had approached her home earlier in the night, she had already been indulging just like the last visit. Yet this time, the miko had invited him to join, correcting herself by offering tea instead. His reluctant agreement came in the form of a courteous nod, refusing to betray decades of hammered mannerism.

He was still unsure of the inclination for such a visit to see the miko in person. Their last encounter had already, somewhat, clarified the answers he sought in relation to her abandoned role. And he knew she had not gone back to said role. It was still status quo.

So, then, why was he here?

He still did not know, and after several long battles of inner contemplation, he resigned to just let it be. Her presence was tolerable, perhaps enjoyable, even.

And Sesshomaru had always done as he pleased.

So now they sat, occasionally exchanging small talk staggered by periods of companionable quietness, bookended by a few more rounds of tea and sak _é_.

Kagome had spoken of Rin and her progress, recounting some of the younger girl’s antics in a more jocular tone. Though the miko did not resume her role as tutor, she had made the effort to reconnect with the child to ease her worry. And with each tale relayed, layers of recent frustrations began to uncoil like a newborn leaf. News of how his former ward was flourishing in the human village brought consoling amusement and acceptable comfort. He will no doubt be hearing more directly from the growing girl upon his regular visitation tomorrow, her deafening squeals already ringing loud in his ears. Subconsciously, his mind eased, knowing it had been the right decision for Rin to stay.

She took another sip, humming a satisfied tune while leaning a lazy chin upon her palm, lids half-mast towards a spot out the window.

“Miko,” he found himself asking unexpectedly, muting the silence. “Why do you drink?”

She had been more talkative tonight. Maybe it had rubbed off on him as well – loosening lips, giving in to curious inflections. Kagome eyed him as if he had grown a second head, thinking it an unusually personal question for him to ask. Nonetheless, Sesshomaru had always been an inquisitive creature, so perhaps this was not so abnormal.

Her shoulders shrugged. “Because Hachi sources the best damn sak _é_ this side of Japan.”

He noticed her pausing and nearly huffed at the evasion, sounding unconvinced. “Highly doubtful to be the only reason,” he spoke down his nose.

“Twenty-one questions again, Sesshomaru?” she quipped, eyes rolling in obvious mirth.

The pattern had been discovered a while ago. Upon each visit, a different question would be posed of her peculiarities, of her time, or just something random altogether. Perhaps she was a jigsaw puzzle to him, as much as he was to her.

_An inquisitive creature, indeed._

He did not deign her with an answer, instead taking another slow swallow of his cooling tea, seemingly bored. She should know by now that such a question would reap no result.

Sighing, she lolled her head towards the open window. “Nevermind. Maybe I have other reasons, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

They once again fell into wordlessness as each intermittently drained their respective cups. Sesshomaru resumed earlier musings as attention roamed their bare surroundings.

Despite the simplicity, a few scattered seating cushions stood out of place like a swan in a chicken pen. They were of the same design as the ones the miko and he currently sat upon and made of quality materials. A knuckle gently grazed the one beneath his folded legs. Not as fine as silk, but the maroon cotton was of a high thread count and smooth to the touch.

It seemed rather odd, that the cushions were in better shape and of superior quality compared to the scraps she had considered clothing. He remembered the wardrobe, and slanted a gaze at her current crumpled attire.

 _Tattered scraps,_ he mentally added, suddenly aware of the smoothness of the silks against his own skin.

Trailing those thoughts, he took in the appearance of her small abode, and could tell the miko was not a creature of material wants, the place lacking all but the necessities aside from the cushions.

Perhaps seating comfort had been placed a more important value, though he was not convinced wearing subpar textiles were comforting at all. Not by a long comparison.

After a while, Kagome was tired of watching Sesshomaru seemingly daydream about… whatever it was that daiyoukais daydream about, and began feeling restless. She was also becoming exquisitely buzzed, and decided to do something to release the pent-up energy.

Climbing to her feet, she rose in a sluggish stretch before turning over a shoulder to her daydreaming guest, seeing that he was actually looking at her now. “I want to take a walk. Will you join me?”

In no rush to be anywhere else, he set down his empty cup and stood, following Kagome out into the nightly cool zephyr.

They walked along a disused path, one that the miko seemed all too familiar with. In the dim of the shadows, she knew her way, guiding them without much hassle aside from a few wayward sways. Not that he would have needed guiding. A demon of his calibre had exceptional eyesight, could traverse any trail on scent alone.

But tonight, he had sensed her eagerness to lead, so he purposely remained a few paces behind.

They came to a clearing a not far down the trail, trees opening up for a grassy field to drink in the reflected moonlight. Their short hike had taken them to a plateau overlooking dense forestry while providing unobstructed views of twin mountains in the far off distance.

Her intake of breath sounded like crystal in the empty space as he caught her pupils dilating to embrace the sky, trying to see everything and more. In an instant, she had scampered off towards the cliff’s edge, plotting down to rest upon a limestone boulder without much grace. 

“This is probably my favourite spot,” Kagome breathed in drunken awe once she settled, neck craned back, beginning to stargaze. No matter how many times she had visited this place, it was always breathtaking, and she would never grow tired. And on this night, the hideout felt exceptionally enticing. As though surrounded by magic, she half expected a fairy to pop out and grant her a wish. “It’s so easy to see all the stars from out here.”

Wavering grass swept aloft by the blushing wind heeled beneath heavy steps. Coming up beside her lithely seated form, he looked towards the distant peaks cresting the misty clouds. They scraped the sky like two long fangs, but instead of spilling blood, paths of a lighter shade opened from their drag. Like her, he too, appreciated nature in its untouched beauty. As with all dominant youkai, the vitality of their ancestors stemmed from spirits borne of the earth and its elements, and he was reminded of an inu’s legendary roots.

“The stars are visible from many places,” he quietly intoned, giving in to her puerile musings.

“Yes, but _this_ ,” she gestured dramatically skywards to catch his glance, wrinkled sleeves sliding down bone-thin arms, “is the best view I’ve found around Edo.”

“It is an acceptable view, for humans.” He continued liltingly, “The perspective from flight, however, is far superior.”

Her rueful sigh tailed nostalgic memories of a time to come. “Can’t argue with that. I remember my first time being on an airplane. I was practically plastered to the window at take-off and landing. But it’s still not the same though. Grasslands were covered in concrete by then.”

She knew she was rambling, and by way of the blank expression aimed her way, a genuine laugh bubbled like popped champagne. “Future talk.”

“Hn. I shall know of it once the time comes.”

Laughter settling down, arms leaned back digging mildly into the chilly rock. Summer was ending as autumn treaded in greeting. The nights were colder now, though with the rice wine in her veins, she felt as warm as a heat packet.

Still, it was a peaceful night with enjoyable company. She didn’t know when it had started, but the constant that was Sesshomaru had become more open around her, more talkative.

 _Well,_ s _omewhat more talkative,_ Kagome mused. A subtle difference, though a difference nonetheless.

“At sunset, the valley practically glows like fire,” she continued, turning her sights back towards the gorge.

“As though the mountains were set aflame,” he affirmed with levity, mimicking her tune.

“Back home, I would never be able to see the stars or mountains like this. Too much light population.”

Her mood was much lighter – untroubled – compared to his previous visit; conversation never straying far from flimsy chatter. Perhaps their easy amity played a role – or more than likely, the liberation from rounds of alcohol gushing through her system. 

“Is this not home now? This is your view.” He too, was feeling untroubled.

“Mmm… It’s not the same.” Pulling knees up, she folded her arms and rested her chin, cheek to the side as she traced the confident lines of her statuesque companion. “Do you ever wish upon a shooting star?”

A lofty smirk skimmed across his face. “I have no need for wishes. All that I seek, I will eventually acquire.”

 _What a Sesshomaru thing to say._ Giggling at such an expected response, she added, “Everyone has some type of wish, whether you know it consciously or not.”

At his tranquil silence, she turned back to the horizon and slid off the boulder, taking a few swaying steps towards the ledge to view the valley below. In the shimmer of reflected luminance, a trickling stream weaved between groves and timberland, capturing her admiration in its otherworldly splendour.

Drowsy lids slid shut as limber body slackened, feeling the breeze between parted fingers as arms lifted in a flutter of sleeves at her sides.

Everything just felt so… open, so light.

_So freeing._

Behind her windows to the world that were her eyes, she imagined what the view would be like from another vantage point, one closer to the clouds.

_I wonder… how it feels like to fly…_

In her mind, she could feel each lifting movement, each strike of the sharp wind as a dog-eared hanyou propelled them forward with inhuman speeds and high-rise leaps. Her hair would whip around wildly, chest pressed into his back eagerly, catching sceneries in front and below as her lungs stretched out with every breath.

She imagined the endless plains and the vibrant greenery such a sight would behold. And on nights such as this, the backdrop would be speckled anew with constellations that rivalled time itself.

The stars were here.

The stars will _still_ be here.

There was a comfort in knowing that even now, her family in the future could still share the same view if they ventured out of the city.

 _Take a trip up north_ , they would always talk about, and try to plan.

And from the vivid view upon her hanyou’s back, the rural landscape would slowly modernize, brick by brick, as they floated above her family’s shrine.

Surveying below, her mother and brother would sit outside on a wooden bench made of dark cherry oak. 

They would wave to her with smiling faces, and her eyes watered.

Oh how she missed them. She had missed them all _so much_.

She never even had a chance to properly say goodbye. And it sunk her heart, tethered to chains and thrown into the ocean.

They were reaching out to her, arms outstretched to welcome her home as she felt their pull – their love, their sadness – _everything_.

An invisible force tugged her along, and she became heavy. Like someone stuck rocks in her shoes to keep her from floating away, away, away… forgotten to the sky.

She wanted to see them again.

She _needed_ to see them again.

They were _so, so close._

_Just a bit, just to say goodbye…_

She leaned ever forward, arms extended, reaching out.

She could almost touch them.

Just a bit closer, she needed to fly _just a bit closer_ …

…to finally be grounded,

…to finally come _home_ ,

_Just a bit further…_

She then felt a sudden drop.

Stunned eyes shot open, hyperaware, no longer imagining.

The wind whipped by, for real this time, as the foliage below grew increasingly closer.

Her stomach lurched to her throat as reality caved.

She was free-falling!

And just as suddenly, she was not.

Stopped, just as sudden, by a firmness around her midsection that almost knocked her out of breath.

In a movement so swift, Kagome felt herself being forcefully hauled back onto the plateau in a matter of seconds, almost as though what had just happened never did, feeling solid ground beneath her feet once more.

Her mind was still caught up in a whirlwind – in a whirlpool, as the world dizzied around her – when a sharp voice cut harshly through, stopping the spin.

“You _fool_ ,” she heard Sesshomaru thunderously seethe, pulling them both roughly away from the ledge, steadying her on her wavering legs while holding still her upper arms. “ _What_ do you _think_ you are doing?”

In one moment she had transitioned from whimsical jolly to a gloomy calm, the change in scent immediately commanding his attention. The next thing he saw was the ridiculous woman leaning far too forward before falling over the cliff in dazed acceptance. Reflexes had launched him after her descent, sprinting vertically downwards and hauling her by the waist back to safety.

Though fast and assured, it did not staunch the sliver of fear at the thought of the miko’s untimely death, almost paralyzing him in doubt and rooting him still.

“I… I’m sorry… I just slipped,” she murmured in regret, gaze not meeting his as her heartbeat thumped from both exhilaration and a thread of fright. She was still trying to comprehend what, exactly, had happened. _It was all so fast…_

“No, you did not _just slipped_.” His words were mocking, dripping with acid as each enunciated syllable vociferated in accusatory fury. “You were _careless_ , as if purposely so.”

Seriously, was this girl so delusional? Had it not occurred to her to watch her surroundings? Perhaps he had underestimated how drunk she actually was. His teeth gritted at such heedlessness.

She stuttered, a bit shaken from such vehemence towards her. She suddenly felt cold, the warmth draining quickly from her fingers and toes. “I didn’t mean to, I-”

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her look at him directly, seeing the slits of his eyes narrow as ice began surfacing.

She was being reckless; had been being reckless, evidence amounting. 

“ _Excuses_. If you are to be so negligent with your life, then perhaps my _brother_ truly did die for _nothing_.” Red-rimmed amber glowed eerie in the midnight sable, youki slowly flaring in restrained control, buffering against her skin, causing goosebumps to rise. “The protection I provide you is _wasted_.”

And there it was. The proverbial nail in the metaphorical coffin.

A tightening density gathered at her heart and pulled to her stomach, constricting and twisting at the glaring truth of his words, rending her incapable of speech as her mouth gaped, shocked.

Inuyasha truly had died for her.

For her mistakes.

For her carelessness.

But then, anger simmered with incredulity, and her temper sparked to life, a jolt of lightning through numbed senses, awakening.

_Why that pompous jackass!_

And she found her words then, pulled from her throat and shoved through her teeth.

“No one asked you to protect me, _Sesshomaru_ ,” Kagome sneered, arms wrenching out his grasp violently while backing away from the daiyoukai’s towering figure. “You have _no obligation_ towards me.”

“No,” he immediately straightened, enraged eyes glaring as his expression hardened fast into piercing steel, “I do not.”

And with that, he sharply turned, disappearing into the forest without a second glance.

-X-

A/N: Ugh, this one was hard to write. I’m still not happy with it, but I’m taking the advice of “just write it and move on,” and not re-work it a gazillion times and then give up on the story all together. Not gonna let that happen to this one!

Anyway, I had written a oneshot called **_Voicemails_** last week that I am really happy with how it turned out. If you’re interested in something to tug at you emotionally, I would recommend checking it out! It contains my first lemon ;)


	9. Progression

**Chapter 9 – Progression**

Blunted steel sang in a resounding chime as the blade whizzed inches past her left, afternoon rays scattering off smooth metal to almost blind. 

She dodged swiftly with a backwards lean, shifting weight from one foot to the other in practiced steps.

The chains rattled in ribbon-like flow, returning to its skillful owner swift as a scorpion’s stinger. Centering on the retreating movement, she didn’t waste the opportunity to advance another strike, battered sword lifting high in firmly clenched hands.

The opponent beamed proudly at her transition, swinging forth a weighted sphere tethered to his heavy chain.

The solid links spun and twirled, encircling the raised katana with deliberate ease like silk-wrapped wind. With a wicked sharp tug, he jerked free the immobilized weapon.

As the tsuka slipped her grip, she temporarily froze, assessing lost leverage as her sword clattered to the gravel some distance away. Bearings were calculated with a quick sweep of surroundings, noting his position and battle-ready stance. His expression spoke of his impending feat, triggering renewed resolve to fire her blood. The distance between them was not far off, and she felt a sliver of luck with the advantage of higher ground.

When the ball and chain began recoiling for another attack, offense tactics were rapidly scanned before reaching to unsheathe a hidden tanto from her side.

His eager smile widened at the sneaky move, admiring the agility displayed as she launched into another charge.

But he read her easily, experience outpacing, anticipating each forward momentum. The moves were expected like a well-watched play. Nonetheless, no matter how pleased he was with each act, it was soon time for the final conclusion, noting her sweat-slicked skin and shallow breaths.

Winding the lengthy chain around a calloused palm, he began a centripetal swing with dominant arm raised. Acute focus timed the exact moment her stride would come within range, and just as she did, the aim was released.

She easily dodged with a tiptoed pivot, confidence smirking at the off-centered trajectory. Heels were digging in preparation to launch, only to falter when a heavy weight suddenly tightened around stiff legs.

 _Damn it!_ she inwardly cursed, self-admonishing for falling victim to such a tactic, caught off guard.

Blue eyes snapped to brown, seeing glinting triumph before he abruptly yanked.

Dread sank in like a ball of lead, pulling her down as balance tripped, crashing harshly over the uneven ground.

With air knocked out, the woman began to cough, sputtering dirt and curses as she pushed up. From her fallen position, two booted feet came into view along with an outstretched hand.

Grumbling in stolen conquest, she begrudgingly grasped the victor’s offered help. “I almost had you, you know.”

A boyish laugh sounded as the young man pulled her to her feet, watching as she animatedly patted off a cloud of dust. “Nee-chan, you’ve improved a lot. I’m sure you’ll be able to win with a bit more practice.”

The woman pinned her sparring partner with a pointed look, stopping his merriment mid-track as if he had been caught stealing.

“Oh don’t you worry, Kohaku, it won’t be long,” came a stiff warning before she moved to collect the discarded blade. Checking it for damage, she slid the sword back into its scabbard at her side, features relaxing into a satisfied grin just as a new visitor weighed in.

“Ah yes, Kagome has made tremendous progress under your tutelage. It will only be a matter of time before the student surpasses the master.”

Two pairs of eyes turned toward the richly amused voice of the looming figure, casually leaned against a wooden fence, without a care in the world.

“Eavesdropping again, Miroku?” Kagome teased with an upturned chin, daring him to admit or deny his spying. He would always come early, and she had a hunch it was an excuse to elude certain chores.

Mischievous eyes twinkled as he stood straight, rendering hands up in a placating gesture. “Why of course not, I am offended you would assume such of me!”

As the two once again engaged in congenial banter, Kohaku started towards the nearby dojo, shaking his head at their usual antics.

They had taken the lessons outside today instead of the facility’s even flooring, electing to practice on a different terrain. It had started some weeks ago when it was decided that it was due time to elevate training to various environments.

And he had been right. Kagome had been more than ready to take things outside, further surprising him with natural performance. Even some if his top students encountered a learning curve while transitioning to unlevelled grounds. But he knew her past, and surmised the years of traipsing around the country side was what had given her a natural edge.

Once inside, he approached the shelf-lined walls grandly displaying an assortment of practice weapons. The place had been well stocked to any warrior’s content. From swords and spears, to staffs and bows – there were enough variety for close-range combat to long-range offences. Although many of the blades were unsharpened, they were still just as harmful if not properly handled. Even for practice, the danger was still very real – a long-held taijiya training method proven for its efficacy.

Mistakes and missteps were learned much quicker this way.

Taking careful time to hang the heavy chain of his kusarigama, the shelf below fondly reminded of his first lesson with Kagome almost a year ago.

The set of katanas had stood out then, its red-wrapped handle contrasting brightly against the plain brown walls. Of all things, she had gravitated towards the blades instead of the bow. And he had instantly known why, taking notice of the familiar sword strapped to her hip that very first day.

Thus, her first weapons lesson had been with a katana of a similar make. She had struggled at first, unused to the weight in her wrist, but soon learned to balance the blade in the following weeks. Strength had been gained and agility honed before switching to the well-worn sword she now constantly carried. Over the months, they had even ventured to other mediums such as the tanto and the bo staff. He was pleased with her choices in such versatile weapons, though always did wonder why she hadn’t further trained with the bow.

Either way, the monk was right. Her skills had immensely improved. He couldn’t have been more proud of his dear friend’s progress. She was like a second sister to him and he wanted her to be strong, willing to do whatever it took to teach all he knew, so that she would be able to protect herself in this cruel world. He owed her his life, and he’ll see to it that she lives hers.

Laughter drifted in from the doorway then, pulling Kohaku out of his reminiscence as the two entered the dojo.

He flashed them a smile, gathering two seating mats from a shelf to place in the center of the room. Miroku uttered a ‘thanks’ as Kagome ruffled his hair.

He swatted her hand away as she shook her head at the playfully annoyed look.

The boy had grown into a handsome young man. His once lanky frame was now lined with lean muscles that stretched and bunched under each swing and each step. Taller and broader, he stood half a head over her height. She wondered when he had grown up so fast, briefly thinking of another little brother and if he had grown as much also.

She reached to pat his head again, not able to resist the still boyish look of mild frustration. It was rare for him to take on the guise other than that of a solemn warrior, so advantage was taken to tease out the charm whenever she could.

Once out of her pestering reach, he nodded goodbye before heading for the exit. “I’m going to visit Sango while you two meditate. I’ll see you at supper!”

“Thanks again, Kohaku!” Kagome waved before turning to the mat where Miroku was already settled into a lotus position, eyes closed and still as a statue.

“Shall we begin?” he voiced calmly, looking as though he hadn’t even moved his lips to speak. Her silly mood offered an image of him as a reincarnated ventriloquist. Maybe such a skill could transcend time?

“Definitely,” she confirmed after swallowing down the bubbling giggles, almost ready to pop. 

Removing her sword and the other small blade from the ties of her hakama, she placed them aside and plopped elegantly down onto the simple mat.

Seated face to face, Kagome mirrored Miroku’s pose with legs crossed and arms resting palm upwards upon each knee. It felt good to finally be out of the sun. The hot weather was causing her clothes to stick, and at times like these, she was glad for the shorter sleeves of the hakamashita worn for training. Unlike the slayers, looser clothing had been far more preferable to the fitted bodysuits. It made for better movement in her opinion, nothing worse than having fabric ride up in unwanted places.

Closing her eyes, deep inhales began, concentrating on the flow of the air and the pulse in her veins.

This had been her ritual ever since moving to Sango’s village to train with Kohaku. The young taijiya had taught her the skill of the body, and the monk was now teaching the skill of the mind. Both needed to be in perfect harmony, Miroku had once lectured, lending pointers in meditation after noticing her often flustered state. It was a welcomed gesture, and she had eagerly taken up the offered advice.

After a while, a peek was stolen at the miko seated in front, her chest rising and falling in sync with each steady breath. He steeled his wayward mind from lingering further, instead focusing on the serenity exuded.

She had not always been so calm, judging from their first few sessions together following each of Kohaku’s tiring lessons.

Often irritable, it had taken hours to get her into the state of tranquility that now seemed second nature. She had huffed and puffed and couldn’t keep still those first few months. But the woman’s strong determination had never faltered, no matter how long they had to sit in the same position, sometimes going well into the evening before calling it a day.

Now, all that hard work had finally paid off. Like a lid over flames, gliding into steady composure was instantaneous. It would seem almost unnatural if he hadn’t been there throughout the gruelling progress to witness her struggle. But she had finally mastered it, becoming as adept as he, if not more. He closed his eyes once more.

An hour passed in undisturbed peace before the silence was broken, remembering something he wanted to speak with her about.

“Kagome,” he raised with a thoughtful tone, “how has your ki been flowing?”

Her lids were kept shut with brows scrunched slightly, memories surfacing of the odd sensation first noticed some time ago. “It… still feels a bit stifled.”

“Like a blocked river?” he continued, recalling the way it had been previously described. When he was first informed of the issue in a passing conversation, he had no inkling of the cause. So he had only hoped it was nothing of great concern. Nonetheless, he still wanted to check up in case there had been any progress or resolution.

“Yes, but it’s less noticeable than before.”

Miroku hummed, opening his eyes to see her unmoving. “Maybe it is improving, then.”

“Or maybe I’m just used to it,” she muttered, unconvinced. “It certainly doesn’t feel unblocked. It’s not any less stifling, now that I think about it.”

“Then we shall work on that today.” Closing his eyes, he began in a soothing, calming voice. “I want you to visualize your energy as you had described; a flowing river travelling throughout every part of your body.”

Kagome did as instructed, envisioning veins as rivers, trickling and winding through the landscape of her body. Arteries became canals, capillaries as streams, organs as masses of ponds and lakes, mapping out each contour and crevice of her mortal vessel.

“Now, try and feel out where the current is less strong, areas where the current is not reaching,” Miroku continued, sensing the swell of her concentration. 

In her mind’s eye, she could picture the waterways light up with the pink sparks of her innate power. Some areas were brighter than others, tendrils splaying like solar flares, wisping across and around. Brilliance gathered in the palm of her hands, set aglow. But that’s not what she was looking for.

“Have you found it?” Her partner’s question fell softly to her ears. 

She followed the tendrils of light, searching for the pinpoint, a clue, _something_. But she found nothing, frustration intruding her composure. “No…I’m not…sensing anything specifically wrong… but something just feels _off_.”

Feeling the shift in her mood, he continued to steadily guide her with softly-spoken words of encouragement, relaying all the ways his grandfather had instructed him whenever he had felt unbalanced. Miroku knew Kagome would eventually figure it out, for though she frustrated easily, she was also extremely determined. And as her spiritual guide, he was also determined to assist in solving whatever it was that displaced her ki.

They continued the meditative exercise, and after a few hours had passed, monk and miko began making their way from the dojo to Miroku and Sango’s shared dwelling.

Kohaku was in the midst of preparing supper while the new mother sat resting, cradling a sleeping bundle in the crook of her arm. Kagome melted at the sight upon entry, greeting the two siblings in a low whisper as to not wake the baby.

“I thought Miroku was with you?” Sango asked just as quietly after a returned greeting, fatigue evident in drooping eyes.

“He’s outside bringing in some firewood. How’s little Daisuke doing today?” Sitting beside her friend, the young miko reached over to relieve the newborn from tired arms, the two sharing a thankful smile.

Wispy dark hair, pink button nose, and round cherubic face were swaddled in a cozy blanket, bringing comforting warmth that seeped through her arms and into her chest. Instinctively, she held on slightly tighter, careful of the angle and position of his tiny head. A silent sigh escaped at the sight, pulling at invisible strings that stirred an undefined emotion.

“The troublemaker is an endless ball of tears one moment, and sleepless energy the next. It’s a good thing I have Kohaku’s help around, even if it is for a short while.”

Kagome swivelled from enjoying the infant’s slumbering cheeks to catching Sango’s open yawn, perplexity showing at her last statement. “What do you mean for a short while?”

Tired expression unchanged, Sango only cracked another yawn, proving just how exhausted she really was. “We’ve received an influx of requests for assistance with troublesome youkai, the first one coming from a village a three-day’s travel from here.”

“I will be heading out tomorrow to start the journey,” Kohaku interjected from beside the cooking fire. “It will likely take a couple of weeks to make it through the few villages along the way. I’ve already charted the fastest route.”

Kagome sported a look of confusion, glancing from one sibling to the other. “But Kohaku, you’re needed here. Can’t you send the others out instead?”

She didn’t understand why he had to be the one to go, surely there were many more that could go in his stead. Wasn’t that what all the recruits had been trained for? He was a new uncle, and honestly, she would feel better if he stayed back to protect Sango until she regained full strength. Plus, he played a vital role as the village lead. He was needed here way more than on some good-deed voyage.

He spoke seriously and evenly, red flames casting a sombre glow that made him seem a lot older than he really was. “The ones that are trained have already been sent. The rest are not yet prepared. They are too new.”

Ah, so they were short-staffed.

This was not a common occurrence. They usually only received two or three summons for assistance every month. But now that she thought of it, there seemed to have been increasingly more activity lately.

And they were the ones most suited to help.

Kagome pinned Kohaku with a levelled stare then, voicing her easy vote with finality. “I’ll go instead.”

“What? Kagome, No!” Sango nearly shouted, almost waking the baby and suddenly not so drowsy anymore.

“How many times have I gone on these missions with Kohaku already? I’ll be done and back in no time,” She didn’t even glance at Sango, keeping unwavering eye contact with the brother instead. “Please, let me take this. I’m more than ready – both of you know I am.”

The younger taijiya was at a crossroads, hesitating at her pleading tone and the sharpness of her resolve.

On one hand, he was the most qualified to go, it was his duty to go. Yet on the other, Kagome had a valid point. His sister would need the additional help. Even with Miroku’s protection, he was just one person having to split attention between supporting his wife with the newborn and leading the village. And the rest of the trained slayers that were out would not be back for at least another couple of days, time that they did not have the luxury of waiting.

After a few moments of thoughtful reflection, he reluctantly agreed; seeing the tenacity in the miko’s gaze and knowing she would not relent, no matter what they say. He also knew she was correct in her assessment. She was capable and had grown so much stronger, and if this was something she felt adamant about, he knew he couldn’t stop her stubborn streak. In all likelihood, she probably would have snuck out in the middle of the night to go anyway, remembering the time she had done just that to tail his group on one of their earlier voyages. He had been surprised, but could not stay angry at her rash behaviour. She had only wanted to help, and seeing her joy from helping others was not something he could strip away. So he had started bringing her along, and despite his reluctance, her aid and skills had been a definite asset. 

“Alright, Nee-chan. But only if you promise you’ll be careful and stay safe.” He levelled a serious look her way, pleading with her to take caution and heed his message. “Once the others return, I’ll send Haru to assist you.”

Kagome nodded with equal parts excitement and vigor. “Don’t worry, Kohaku. I promise I’ll be careful.”

-X-

A/N: I hate writing action scenes. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I don’t know what I’m doing. /EndRant

Anyway, I am reading all your lovely reviews, each one makes me so giddy and happy, and keeps me writing! Thanks so much for your support, I love hearing what each of you think of the story :D

Tsuka: handle of a Japanese katana blade  
Tanto: a small blade, like a miniature katana  
Kusarigama: the pick/mini scythe thing with a ball and chain on the end that Kohaku uses as a signature weapon


	10. Ephemeral

**Chapter 10 – Ephemeral**

The sounds were loud, as though she was standing beside a beating drum. Even though the actual drums were all the way across the courtyard.

Still. They were loud.

And obnoxious.

And causing an impeding headache.

Sighing, she pressed fingers to her temples and slowly massaged, simultaneously willing the noise to go away with all her might.

“Miko-sama, are you okay? Is the food not to your liking?”

Peeking out one eye, she stared at the morsels in her dish before her head lifted, seeing the young village headman standing in front with a worried expression upon his craggy face. His dark hair was long and unruly. Even though it had been tied back into a low ponytail, it looked to be escaping, wanting to frizz off in every direction from the night’s humidity. His clothes were plain and ill-fitted, almost too big for his slim frame. It strangely reminded of when Souta had tried on her grandfather’s robes. That had been an amusing visage. Except this wasn’t funny. It seemed kind of sad, as though he was trying to fill bigger shoes, a bigger role.

She sat straighter, recalling forgotten manners and shaking off the unkempt image.

“Oh no, the food is great. Thank you so much for your hospitality...” Kagome ended the thought there, the man’s name escaping her memory. Was it Hiro? Jiro? Something with an _iro_. She was too tired to really remember, the headache not helping her cognitive abilities one bit.

His features lightened, the one protruding mole by his chin moving with each word he spoke, like it wanted to jump off his face.

“That is perfect to hear! Here,” he said, proffering a small rounded cup seemingly out of nowhere, “have a drink with me to celebrate your amazing feat of banishing the monster!” 

Looking into the half-filled ceramic shoved towards her nose, the tilting of the line in the liquid told of the headman’s slanted posture. He was already drunk by the smell of his breath, teeth in a crooked smile. He was friendly enough, gratuitous enough. But she didn’t want to drink – didn’t want to start – even though it whispered at her to have a taste. So with will power summoned, and as much grace as she could muster, the offer was respectfully declined.

“Thank you, I really appreciate the gesture, but I must head to rest, tiring day and all.” She hoped that was believable. And to add the final touch, she faked a yawn while standing up from the low dining table where she had been sitting alone, hand patting gently over her opened mouth exaggeratingly.

The man seemed disheartened, but agreed nonetheless. “Ahhh, yes, it must have been quite strenuous to take on such a formidable foe. Sleep well, Miko-sama, I bid you goodnight.” He bowed, and just like that, sauntered off into the crowd of celebrating villagers, quick as he came.

 _Huh, that was surprisingly easy,_ she thought with mild confusion. Normally they would have been more persistent, hence the need for a little acting. The last two villages certainly had more determined hosts. They had all seemed curious about her, wanting to engage in uncomfortable conversation on unimportant topics.

But not this one. This one seemed to just want to carouse without a care in the world. 

Shrugging it off as a small gift from the kamis, she rolled her stiff shoulders and began the walk back to her assigned chambers. She really had been tired, but not from the fight as had been presumed, but more from the long days of journeying and walking from one village to the next. If only they had cars. Or carriages – but that would require a horse and a rider. She’ll settle for a horse, even if equestrian skills were lacking. She could always learn. One thought led to the next; then all of a sudden, she missed her bike – her metal chariot.

Another thing she’ll never see again.

As Kagome passed through the courtyard, there were a mixture of hesitant glances and respectful bows from the milling populous. The glances she understood, but the bows were somewhat new. The lizard youkai hadn’t even been that opposing; shot down with her first arrow, on her first try. Were they really that impressed?

Her pupils swung side to side at the clamouring crowd illuminated by lit torches, smouldering camp fires, and the round moon hanging low in the dark sky.

_Women, children, men, old folks, young folks._

None were rich folks, that’s for sure. _No horses to spare here._

Waving off the odd display, she continued out the courtyard, pass the residential dwellings, and towards the uninhabited hut belonging to the village headman that had been lent for her stay.

She really wanted to sleep.

-X-

_Tendrils curled, icy and wet._

_Two points of red, gleaming and sharp_

_Slippery flood of stinging vapours._

_It seeped into heaving lungs._

_Thick. Viscous. Coagulated._

_Cold, yet burning._

_It peeled her skin._

In the lightless room, Kagome’s eyes shot open with an escaping cry, bolting up straight with a rigid back.

Instinctively she reached blindly, hand frantically clasping and grabbing until they felt a cool solid length. The sword rattled as it was clutched to her chest, held in tight grips as if it were her only saviour. And perhaps it was – the one true connection she still had to a certain past, thrummed with a hidden power she could not unlock.

She rocked it with her body to calm the erratic beat in her chest, the only motion that seemed to help whenever night terrors loomed.

And she hated these dreams that seized and clawed, winding its nasty little hands with long scraggly fingers around her bones. They always set her on edge and chocked her breathless. As though falling through thin ice, she would try to surface, only to find that it’s been blocked by the same ice that no longer supported her weight. Air would run out, and she would drown in flames, feeling those long fingers pull on a leg, deeper and deeper, into the abyss.

She shook loose the haunting remains and sat up in tangled sheets. Her throat was dry and felt like burning sand. Skin damp as rain, body drenched in something hot and cold. The pounding of her heart continued thundering in her muffled mind, loud and vibrating like the drums from the echoing courtyard.

It was only after a few long moments that her rocking stopped. She passed a hand over her forehead, lifting away matted bangs and clearing away the sweat on her brows. It was sticky to the touch and smelled of salt. 

The night was still dark, the smiling moon hidden by the frowning clouds. It took a few more moments before pupils dilated, widening to adjust for the lack of light. And in gradual strides, she could finally make out the straight-edged silhouettes of the tiny room, appearing like specters in unexplainable translucency. 

Digging the heels of her palms into her eyes, the crust of sleep was wiped away along with remnants of the vile nightmare. Peeling the sheets from her skin like the layers of a fruit, shivering goosebumps rose at the sudden coolness that hit her core.

She was now wide awake. 

A look to the window confirmed that it was still extremely dark. Dawn was nowhere near, and sleep was ever evading. She’d rather chase a rabbit than to chase the slumber that would never come. So she decided to rise.

_No use sitting around in idle thought. Might as well get some practice in._

Reaching for the bag placed by the mattress, Kagome fished out a fresh set of clothes, quickly stripping out of the dampened sleeping kimono that clung uncomfortably to her body.

 _Good thing I brought spares,_ she thought as she changed.

With a few things collected that might be needed, she crept out the door and into the stillness of the night. There was a spot she had passed by on her way to the village. It was secluded, but not too far out. Beginning a steady pace, she started on a leisurely walk.

-X-

A wind picked up and the clouds soon parted, paving way for the light of the moon to ignite her path.

Kagome had been walking for about a half hour, guided only by the small lantern borrowed from the hut before leaving. But now the light was plentiful, and she was no longer tripping on unseen roots. Snuffing out the small candle, the lantern was hung to the side of her bag, just a speck in comparison to the bright rock in the sky.

The rest of the walk was much faster upon the easily-spotted path, unhindered by the surrounding short trees and shrubs. Within another twenty minutes or so, a flat clearing finally came into view.

Just as remembered, it was the perfect spot. The ground was even and soft, covered by a field of grass that looked almost mowed, like it had been keep evenly shaved by a secret gardener. Dropping her bag, she kicked off her shoes, toes weaving through each sliver of green.

A random thought wandered, walking through her mind and waved – when was the last time she had laid on a field of grass for fun, and not because she needed to sleep?

Feeling childish all of a sudden, her knees bent down to the cool grass, dropping on her belly as hands weaved through each strand of nature’s carpet. 

It was a soothing lullaby, and soon, she flipped onto her back. From the corner of her eyes, lights flickered on and off, soon realizing they were the glow of fireflies. She had seen them many times before, but tonight, they looked to be putting on a show just for her, demonstrating the magic within their tiny little bodies. They were tragic creatures, really. Growing and maturing most of their life, only to reach adulthood to live two or three months more at most. But perhaps it was worth it, to showcase their entrancing displays, just to search for a mate and die.

Sitting up again, Kagome reached for her bag and pulled out the sword that had been packed, resting it gently across her lap like a delicate heirloom. It wasn’t delicate – far from it, actually – but it was indeed an heirloom. A precious one, at that.

She flattened her palm against the wooden scabbard, sliding from end to end in a slow motion, like smoothing away wrinkles on a stubborn bed sheet. There were tiny nicks scattered about from wear-and-tear, but it still didn’t detract from the polished craftsmanship that forged the sheath.

Her hand landed on the hilt next, tracing the old-looking bindings before roving over to the brass-coloured tsuba. It was so unassuming in its untransformed state, that it was hard to – no, almost impossible to – believe all the forms that it could master. It was metamorphosis – caterpillar to butterfly.

Grabbing onto the hilt and the scabbard, the blade was released in one swift pull. It looked even less impressive. The metal was chipped and uneven, wearing the scars of its battles.

She touched a finger to the edge. It wasn’t sharp. It probably couldn’t cut. And yet, her deep dark eyes still shone with a sense of beauty whenever she took the time to admire this dull, unassuming blade.

This dull, unassuming blade – that with the right wielder, could transform into something bright, powerful, and magical.

_A butterfly. When will you become a butterfly again?_

She sighed, deeply, longingly, before setting aside the sheath and unfolding to a stand. Walking towards the center of the meadow, Kagome held the blade up to the filtered glow dappling through the trees, studying the lines with unparalleled concentration.

Breathing in the forest pine, she relaxed each muscle, starting from the ones in her cramped toes as her arms dropped to the side, the blade loosely grasped in one hand.

_Toes, heels, ankles, calves…_

She continued until her whole body felt like it was one long ribbon, untangled and unknotted. With feet apart, limbs began to slowly move, flowing easily into practiced positions – a well-accustomed mould.

-X-

He halted, frozen in step, when a trickle of familiarity drifted lazily through the dense humidity. It came from quite a distance away, far enough to consider a trek but not enough to call it a hike. Through expanses of tall pines and looming canopies, sharp senses easily detected the unique blend of frosty fresh citrus, a glaring contrast to the forest’s usual woodsy musk.

It was a scent he had been unable to rid from its seemingly permanent imprint.

Heavy hands clenched hidden in flowing silks as reminders of the source faded clearer. He stubbornly refused to acknowledge the whispering call, frowning at the creeping visage of vivid black hair and azuline eyes.

Any thoughts of her had been successfully repressed for many months; locked away inside a small lacquered box, tucked aside in the remote recesses of his consciousness like all things discarded. And yet, the moment her scent had reached his sensitive nose, the box had burst open, its contents overflowing.

His mouth tugged further at this lack of control. None had rivalled his unwavering composure, his will was nothing but inexorable, as apparent through countless decades. Not even his own father had reached this level of equanimity. Like ancient timbres that surrounded, the solidity of his resolve had been timeless – still and unwavering, occasionally swaying upon strong forces, but never bent.

And yet this _affliction,_ imparted by a certain miko, was able to crumble that composure like a wall made of dust. He was reminded of root-rot taking hold, eating away from the inside, unknowing to its host until the wilting came.

Her words had planted from that day. _No obligations_ – and she had been correct. He held no such promise, not even to a dying request. But the words poked sharp, held like pins by a jittering tailor with shaking hands.

He wanted those pins to stop, and hated the elusiveness of skittering rationale for his unnerving rage that very day. What did he care for the damn woman’s lack of self-preservation? He had silently lent protection. It hadn’t been an inconvenience, and only provided upon passing, but she caustically threw it back anyway.

Just _why_ had it riled him so? The answer was still elusive, and perhaps there was no answer to be sought. He should not be wasting time weaving through each ponderings like treads on a cotton loom. The answer was inconsequential.

So he had reasoned that she was owed nothing. She was of no importance. She did not even live in the village he visits anymore. Thus it had been easy to sever contact completely, and with that, whatever ill-conceived notion of a half-formed association. Ties to a non-existent obligation were cut short.

And yet her imprint lasted, stamped into active consciousness for weeks on end. Semblance of peace only followed after endless hunts to distract his mind, and only after he had constructed a tiny box to place inconsequential things. Things that gripped and pulled with fading blue eyes. 

And it had worked. He had considered himself cured.

 _Perhaps_ cured _had been the wrong diagnosis._

The bitter taste of failed attempt tickled his tongue. He had been content with repression. A temporary solution, as evident by the current situation he was now in.

But the walls were crumbling. The acrid taste of weakened will ghosted his throat.

Clouds of indecipherable sentiments clung as thoughts trailed to that inexplicable woman, clamouring for his unbidden attention, climbing out of that damn box. It was distracting. Irksome. Like an insect stuck in his head, it buzzed around, knocking over all rational thought.

The nearly eradicated nagging curiosity once again reared and followed, stuck as one’s own lingering shadow. 

He felt the strain in his jaw, and realized he had been grinding his teeth.

Finally, he released a resigned sigh; chancing a thought at the anomalous situation, fists unclenching at the looming acceptance of vexatious prodding. The crunch of footsteps was already heading in direction of the trailing scent, loudly confirming to his ears her invisible tow.

He will satisfy this curiosity one last time. After that, the small lacquered box will once again be hidden and locked away. There was no need for inconsequential things.

-X-

A/N: As a novice writer, I’m constantly criticising my stories, wanting to edit and edit and edit. Looking through the previous chapters, I felt there was something missing – a certain perspective, or whatever. So the last few days (starting May 6th 2020), I did a bit of editing and threw in a few sentences here, a few metaphors there. Just an extra ~2,500 words in the last 9 chapters – nothing drastic, it didn’t change the story plot-wise. So if you’ve already read it, no need going back, unless you want to. Going forward, I’ll try to weave it in more so I don’t end up with hindsight. Sesshomaru + Kagome scenes coming in next chapter. Enjoy, and please review!

Tsuba = the guard on a Japanese sword (the little round part that protects the hand)


	11. Reunion

**Chapter 11 – Reunion**

Sesshomaru reluctantly followed the trail of the miko’s scent, weaving through densely packed trees and underbrush until a grassy glade finally came into view. The space opened to the sky above while still surrounded by towering timbers and hideaway shrubs. The scent was strongest here, and at first he had thought he may have just missed the miko, that she had simply stopped briefly before continuing on.

But then he spotted her.

Under the radiance of a diffuse glow, bathed in misty pale silver, she was there in the clearing. Plucked from a wrinkle in time only to be deposited into a distant past, his recent present, flickering through his existence in flashes of lightning.

She was here again like a tropical storm; wind curling, rain mizzling, air pulling. He felt a strange stirring upon the sight, as though he were an island upon her aimless path, waiting for her to sweep by in temporary chaos, upheaving and uprooting. A feeling that once the flurrying tempest passes, he’d be left in its ruffled wake, glad for it to be over and looking forward to the calm once more. For the trees to align, for order to settle, for the gale to dissipate. It was an unexplainable ripple to the still lake of his passing days, unsettled by pebbles thrown without cause or reason.

And yet, at this moment, in this small pocket of space between the unruffled and the undisturbed, he could not help but appreciate the transient disruption.

Because he knew that was all that it will ever be. _Transient._

As with all things of the mortal plane.

Knowing that this _disruption_ would soon pass, he allowed a watchful gaze to lock onto the unfurling sight, molten pools of rich amber swirling with each spectral movement soft as smoke. She flowed and bent, pivoted and twirled, exuding a swan-like grace he had never known her to possess.

 _No_ , he thought, feeling fooled by his eyes. _This could not be her._

It was a grace that could not have belonged to the root-tripping, arrow-dropping, fall-off-a-cliff, clumsy slip of a woman. And for a split second, he second guessed himself, wondering if his senses truly had been playing tricks as this could not have been the same person, the image irreconcilable.

But the longer he observed, the more he realized that they were, indeed, one and the same.

And here she was, a brewing storm right before his eyes, twisting what he saw and what he knew until they were blended as one irrefutable truth.

Affirmed that it was no illusion, he watched as she moved. Each step was feather-light, leaving no dents in the glade before springing from one balanced position to another in weightless form. It was a dance that was almost…enthralling, beckoning to his warrior instincts in a way that was oddly demanding. Like the unfolding of a battle-ending strike, it rendered him unable to peel away.

Eyes were still focused while deep shadows kept him hidden. He watched as she rounded with planted feet and slightly bent knees, following the twist of a right arm reaching over left. Lithe and poised, she swung out in a wide crescent arch, soundlessly withdrawing a very recognizable blade in liquid motion.

As the sword streaked across engrossed vision, time virtually stood still, as though pausing just for him to survey and behold the object of a long-ago desire. Memories dripped from glistening steel, having seen it drawn many times before in similar fashion, attracting ghosts from undying graves.

It triggered a reminder of a state transformed; once thrumming with an immutable force that burst at the seams, wielded by the iron grip of a legendary ruler to cast scars of destruction in razor precision. It was power – raw power that spoke of death and blood to any who would dare oppose its master’s will. It had been a standing fixation that fuelled a centuries-long search, only to find rejection upon its barricaded hilt.

Sesshomaru glanced to his dominant hand, recalling electric burns of the magic that refuted his claim. It had left no visible scars, but a mark had still remained of a wounded pride. Though since faded by a relic borne of his own legacy, the marring was still imprinted behind thickened skin, painted over by self-fulfillment of cresting supremacy.

Dropping his palm, he gazed back to his father’s heirloom. A phantom pulse shot through his other arm with the remembrance of its secondary handler. It had been brandished shapelessly; lacking all discipline and swung foolishly about with half-mast potency in chaotic demolition. The power had been there. There had been no doubt about that. Yet, it was never complete and never fully conquered. The only example of near proficiency had been at the final confrontation, and even then, it had not been enough to save its wielder from demise.

The demon lord nearly scoffed at the irony.

How was it, that the only person to have been able to release the sword from its eternal resting place – the one to have ended up as its current owner – was the only one who could not unlock its true power? It was something that he had not given much thought before. But now, at the end of that provoking query, the comparison finally materialized as he sifted through the conclusion, appearing as blatantly obvious as the sky is blue.

The miko and the blade walked a mirrored path.

Pure energy was flowing just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed. Waiting for the power to be tamed. And perhaps, he thought, that it was not irony that had casted both their bonds. He would not admit it to be fate, but at that moment, he realized that it may have been more than just coincidence.

His thoughts lingered as time eventually caught pace. Chronicles of centuries flashed, glinting off the scuffed metal in bright reflection, forever withholding secret tales of its golden days. Even as the dull fang blazed, he realized that what he was seeing now was something entirely different; like a lost chapter of a fabled myth, the ending had yet to arrive – unwritten and untold. What was his father’s legacy? What had been left behind?

A rustle shifted his attention back to the current wielder, pulling him out of his silent reverie to catch her moonlit frame.

Her arm was flexed and toned, straight and still as the sword lined perfectly, becoming one with the limb. She was connected. The form was close to flawless except for the minor kink in her wrist and the overarching curve of her back.

But even slightly flawed, there was an ethereal elegance with applying such fidelity to a crippled tool, no longer of use to its handler as it once had been.

Snow white sleeves fluttered as movements became faster and more diverse. No longer performing simple katas, she was now going through a full kenjutsu routine as each stance became discernable of the ancient art. Drawing and slicing, advancing and blocking, striking and twisting. They were the same moves he had long ago mastered in his youth, trainings etched into rigorous form.

Tiny beads of perspiration formed along tight brows as her focus grew more intent, making him consider whom she envisioned as the invisible opponent to have held such concentration. There was a certain level of satisfaction in watching her practice, to see a side of the woman that he had never before seen.

Sure, he had witnessed her standing up to impossible foes and come out the victor. She had even boldly – ridiculously – stood up to him on multiple occasions. Yet, each time had lacked a certain element, something that had always eluded the miko’s valiant stature, slipping through her fingers like water.

But tonight, it was there – coiled beneath pale skin, lashing out with every move like a punctilious viper.

_Confidence._

The word echoed in the chambers of his mind, causing him to wonder when the miko had gained it, and how. But he did not dwell on the matter, sure that the answer would soon be revealed.

As the performance continued, he had to admit that she was proficient. Not an expert by any means, but he could concede to the skills hidden behind lean muscles, caged in a small frame yet to be unlocked.

As a cloud passed by, briefly encasing the area in darkness, he decided it was time to finally make himself known.

In a soundless leap, he landed right behind her just as she spun, weapon extended from a tightened grip.

Blue eyes widened in sudden shock as aim swiftly redirected from the unexpected guest, momentum tilting downwards as balance tripped in a forward stumble.

“What the hell, Sesshomaru!” Kagome screeched. Immediately, a glare full of ire was shot his way after righting herself with careful footing. “I nearly lopped your head off!”

He allowed a hint of a smirk to slowly spread.

Concentration had been so ingrained in each movement, and she had felt no other creature around – no other auras, no other sound – that when suddenly coming face to face with that distinct silver hair in the moonlight, she had _almost_ thought it to be an apparition. It was only with practiced reflexes and a twist of a wrist that she had been able to so quickly change trajectory, almost falling embarrassingly into the demon lord.

“You certainly would have not,” came the reply in an all-too-familiar voice not heard in seasons.

He had felt her heartbeat stutter upon her turn, the panic that flashed across her widened eyes, and now, the forced calming of her rattled nerves. It was near humorous how quickly he had been able to shake up her steady composure, reverting back to the clumsy woman of his memories.

Inclining his chin, he haughtily continued, “Tessaiga could not fell a leaf in its current form.”

As her glare trained upon his shadowed face, the pacing clouds shifted then, allowing hidden features to reveal in the filtered light. Slowly but surely, twin stripes faded into sculpted cheekbones, appearing almost black instead of the deep burgundy she knew them to be. Nightly shades retreated into alabaster skin, uncovering a tapered mouth with slightly upturned corners, ever so sly. Her eyes traveled along the path of the light, eventually staring into aurulent pools that seemed to glow. Her breath hitched in her throat at what stared back.

Those golden eyes – the ones she had not seen in such a long time, the same ones that had last looked upon her with cold resentment – were now staring back with a twinkle of mirth, as though their last encounter had been surreptitiously erased.

In that moment, Kagome couldn’t stop the relief that flooded her veins. Wave after wave, it began washing away the ire that arose while drowning the regret of misplaced anger.

Seeing him again, standing tall as ever in front of her like an immortal revenant – someone whom she thought she had driven away, whom she _had_ driven away – was destroying her oblivescence of past rendezvous, of remorseful guilt for another connection lost.

And it was a connection that she hadn’t realized would be so sorely missed, until it was gone in the span of a few lingering words that hung by threads.

Now, she found herself trying to grasp onto the hope that like the bare branches of a winter tree, perhaps this lost connection might bloom once more.

Pinpricks gathered, she wanted to cry.

But she wouldn’t dare let those tears begin to fall, willing them back behind thin lids. She didn’t want him to see her weakness, this concealed self-loathing of another failure that caged her soul in restless fatigue. Kagome diverted her eyes from his, no longer able to look into those endless citrine depths.

“You’re probably right,” she forced a humourless laugh, trying to restrain the tremor weaving into her tiny voice. It threatened to shatter her like sheets of ice. But she did not yield.

Sliding Tessaiga back into the scabbard at her hip, she took a steadying breath, finally gaining a hold on flurrying nerves. Peering back into his familiar face, she forced a smile.

“So, why were you hiding your aura and sneaking up on me like that anyway?”

Sesshomaru was actually quite amused at how unnerved the miko had been at his _sneaking up_ , at the jumble of flustered emotions swarming around like disturbed bees. Even now she was trying so hard to hide it, but he saw through her nervousness.

What an interesting reaction, he thought while blithely intoning, “You would prefer I announce my arrival, then?”

Just as his teasing words reached her ears, a tidal wave of youki surged into her – through her, surrounding her. It was thick like burning smoke, close to stifling, and if she were anyone else, it might have smoldered and charred.

But it did not burn, did not inflict an impulse to retreat as it surely did to all forest creatures within miles of their location.

Because she _knew_ this energy. Recognized it for what it was.

Instead of cowering as most would react, sooty lashes fluttered shut at the sudden onrush, torrents of the familiar aura enveloping like a toasty blanket, drawing out wisps of her own enlivening power. It sparked along her body in natural reaction – a reaction that to any other witness would seem confrontational, but it was not, it was – 

_Calming._

She could feel the strength that was so expertly hidden, and unlike all the other instances in which his aura felt only partially revealed, this time she felt it all. This was purely Sesshomaru, purely _him_ as youki surged, swirling up locks of black and silver in the dark and pale ether.

Kagome felt light-headed, elevated, and was beginning to get lost in the sensations, as though spiralling in the eye of a tornado, ready to click her ruby red heels to bring her home.

It had been so long, so very, very long, since she had last felt the strong pulse of youki in a way that did not pose immediate threat nor compelled her to flee and seek refuge.

This was different. Almost welcoming.

Her own energy started flittering from her skin in curling ribbons, coming out shy, wanting to explore. It was sensually liberating, so much so that she could just let go – allowing those wisps of energy to flow…

So she did – embracing it, caving in, releasing –

And then it was over.

The youki was gone.

Snuffed out like a candle, reeled back once more, resealed behind an impenetrable barrier.

Disoriented, glimmering lashes blinked to see the settling of silks and hair, his shadow of a smile no longer there.

_Did I…_

Elation fell, for at that moment, she knew he was displeased.

As her mind began to race, the tranquil expression she had adorned scurried behind the mask she wore, half a face shrouded in covered shadows.

She knew she should have had a better rein on her spiritual powers! Had she singed him? Had she accidentally hurt him? It probably would have been uncomfortable too if she had, even for a demon like him – and he would never show it either –

_Crap, crap, crap!_

Silence stretched as she gulped dry dread, feeling the cold claws of rejection reaching up from her stomach, through her oesophagus, climbing to the back of –

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, halting her train-wreck of thoughts.

“W-What?” Kagome met the eyes of his unreadable gaze, confusion evident through momentous worrying of her slighted offense.

When he did not answer, only continuing to regard her expectantly, did she finally realize that Sesshomaru was, in fact, _not_ angry.

This was when she noticed that he was actually quite unscathed. No signs of even slight purification as her eyes darted around his person for the lacking evidence.

Releasing a breath that sounded oddly like a relieved shudder, Kagome relaxed, bringing a hand to rub at the back of her neck to ease the built-up tension. Looking up into his face once more, her mouth gaped as she registered that he was _still_ waiting on an answer.

Boy, was she slow today.

Taking a step back to glance around the clearing, brows knitted in puzzlement. She wasn’t exactly sure why he was asking, though she supposed it was a bit odd to find a miko training out in the middle of the night and in the middle of the woods. 

“I’m getting in some practice?” she answered uncertainly, nails tapping at the scabbard slotted in the sash at her waist to draw his attention there.

“Clearly.” His gaze slanted back up towards her, “What I had meant, was why you are this far north in the eastern territories.”

“Oh,” she said, displaying her inexperience.

To be honest, she wasn’t exactly sure where she was. It wasn’t like there had been a map or guide. There had only been forking roads and miscellaneous foot trails. Even the villages were often nameless. Blunted teeth pulled on a bottom lip while considering answers deep in thought.

“I guess you could say I’m on a few missions.”

 _Missions?_ That was unexpected. What business could she possibly have so far north?

“In these parts of the land?” he asked without revealing his curiosity.

“Well, we got notice that settlements up here needed help getting rid of a few demons that’s been attacking. So I’m just helping out.”

 _So it is a sense of duty_ , he noted.

It seemed like something she would do. In fact, it screamed it, practically had her name written on it. Of the things he knew of the woman, she was never one to back down from a call for help.

However, he still wondered, “Is that not the responsibility of the slayers?”

Dark eyes the color of the midnight sea peered up to his stoic façade, the only thing amiss were the arch of a questioning brow. The back of her mind started to guess at the number of inane questions he would ask tonight. It had been a secret little game she had started from all their previous encounters. And now, after the spacious time apart, just hearing his curiosity made her feel more at ease, reminders of a lost and found.

Turning her back to him to hide the beginnings of a smile, Kagome stepped in position to continue her exercises before the interruption, answering over in a lighter tone. “It is, but we’re short on helpers, and I’m a miko, so technically it’s my responsibility too.”

She noted his pause before he spoke again. “You are travelling alone.”

 _Statements like that also count as questions._ “Yup. At least for now. Kohaku is sending help later on.”

Another pause.

“Are you not afraid of danger?”

Kagome stopped in one of her stances to cast a look over a shoulder, eyes softening at the nudging of a distant memory, voice soft as cotton. “How much help would I be, if I am the one that’s afraid?”

Wordlessly, he considered her rationale.

The miko was right. He had rarely, if ever, seen her truly afraid.

Worried? Yes.

Panicked? Yes.

Terrified? Yes.

But truly afraid, in a sense to try and run away from the challenge? To refuse a helping hand?

Perhaps not.

However, she was also utterly reckless, as he recalled, always throwing herself head first into trouble.

_Has the miko changed in that regard?_

“Hn.”

She took that as his acceptance of her response, and ventured an ask of her own. “And what are _you_ doing all the way out here, Sesshomaru?”

“Surveying,” the demon lord replied, head lifting towards the horizon where the earth met the sky in a subtle gradient from the sun’s receded passage. “We are quite close to the borders of my domain.”

She followed his gaze westwards. “Oh, right. So are you just passing by then?” 

Hearing a rustle and no answer, she turned back only to see he had leapt off to land at the edge of the clearing some distance away, settling down under the sweeping branches of a large willow tree.

_Just like him to demand answers but not give any of his own._

Smiling to herself, Kagome continued to practice after a moment of watching him get seated, fondly remembering a time when her traveling group would chance upon him resting by a glade while a younger Rin plucked handfuls of daisies.

Within minutes, her mind was back at equilibrium, calm and tranquil while cycling through a mental list of katas, each movement repeating in her mind before transitioning to her body in electrical commands.

 _Nukitsuke,_ one foot stepped forward, drawing the Tessaiga in a swift outward striking movement.

 _Shomen uchi_ , the blade lifted for a vertical downward cut, as though slicing through an overgrown ogre.

 _Uke tomi,_ bringing her arms in along with the sword, she –

“Your form was off, Miko.”

Kagome paused at the sudden sound of his voice, and felt her face flush.

She had not been expecting an audience, and had thought he was going to nap, or go do…whatever it was daiyoukais do when they were bored and wandering around the countryside. But watching her fumble in swordplay was not what had been expected. And inwardly, she paled – what must she had looked like compared to a master swordsman? She had witnessed Sesshomaru fight many times, and each time it was like watching Russian ballet. Compared to that, she must have resembled a newborn fawn taking its first steps.

Gathering her breath, she asked, fully embarrassed, “Um…where was the mistake?” 

From where he sat at the base of the willow, it didn’t seem like he was even paying any attention. His back was leaned against the bark, one arm resting casually over a pulled up knee, eyes remaining closed as she looked in his direction not but a few yards away.

“ _Shomen uchi_ ,” he responded without even a glance. “Tighten your grip and keep your elbows firm to maintain leverage.”

Nodding, she was about to restart before letting out a small “Thanks,” remembering that he probably couldn’t see her nod.

Retracing steps, she began again, making the tweaks as was indicated. The subtle difference in the pull on her wrist was immediately noticeable, shortening and alleviating the weight of the steel.

 _Guess this is as close to a formal lesson from an expert as I’ll ever get_ , Kagome mused, allowing the motions to take over in synchronized rhythm.

As her arm shot forward in another strike, her mind wandered back to her first foray into the art of kenjutsu, and of the cringe-worthy time the practice blade had flown out her butterfingers, almost impaling Kohaku along the way. Inwardly she laughed, and outwardly a soft giggle escaped, drawing two very curious amber eyes over to her moving form.

Under the long arms of drooping leaves, Sesshomaru, to the outside world, was as serene as ever. But even he could not fool himself as his mind reiterated the question that had been plaguing since catching her scent in the air that evening.

Just _what_ was it about the miko that had captured his attention?

_Was it her power?_

When he had released his aura earlier, intending to intimidate, he had not expected her reaction.

She had looked so…peaceful, as though his youki had _pleased_ her, wiping away her sorrows.

He scowled. _How absurd._

However, what had frustrated him even more, made it increasingly perplexing, was the way her reiki had sought out his youki, and the way it had made _him_ feel. He could still recall the luring warmth of purity, stretching out, reaching towards him as though she _wanted_ to get tangled up in his energy.

And he was sure the woman had been totally oblivious to it as well.

So he had reined in his darkening aura then, surprised at his own inexplicable response, because he had not pulled away until consciously forcing himself to do so.

_Foolish._

It was a foolish notion. Reiki and youki were opposites, yet he could not deny what had transpired, could not deny that it wasn’t _unpleasurable_.

He had hoped, that perhaps by seeking her out this one last time, would satisfy and lay to rest a nagging curiosity. To confirm that she was alive and not on the brink of death, confirm that she was nothing but a regular human not worth his time, that she was just a grain of sand on an endless beach – before continuing on his way, never to have her cross his mind again.

But that did not seem to be the case.

As it may, it appeared to have had the _opposite_ effect.

Now, he was even _more_ intrigued by the change in her character.

She was no longer bony and frail, no longer carrying a heavy sadness so potent that it suffocated every room she entered. There was still a melancholic haze that surrounded her, but it did not overly cling to her speech, to her movements, to her eyes.

No, she was not the same woman from years past. But she was, from his assessment, finding herself. She was stronger, both physically and spiritually as evident from her spiritual power.

Thoughtful eyes turned back to the miko as she practiced.

_She’s building her strength._

And he’s falling to his weakness.

Sesshomaru visibly straightened.

 _No, I am not,_ he begrudged adamantly, hands clenching into fists as his nails dug into his palms, riled by the intruding thought.

She was just a human whom he disconcertedly deemed more interesting than the rest. An intrigue to pass his time, sure to be bored of in maybe a few short months or years.

 _That_ he could live with.

He could entertain the idea that she was just a pastime, a sliver of amusement between days of lordly duties to his domain, something frivolous away from the monotonous politics of court.

A sigh slipped under his breath, sounding almost weary.

He also was not oblivious to the effect she had on him. For reasons unknown, he had realized that being around her alleviated the constant tension that draped over his shoulders, the heaviness that felt like stacked boulders whenever he thought of the miko when she was not around.

The rationale for such influence was still a mystery. But he was beginning to sense the futility of trying to avoid it. It would be unavailing, especially after tonight. Oh deep down he just knew that the spark of intrigue had been inadvertently fanned. And there would be no use in exerting efforts to deny it. He was doomed to let this play out if he ever wanted his sanity back again.

Steeling his resolve, he swallowed his acceptance. He could deal with a few scant years of this creature’s lure, at least until he found no further entertainment in her oddity. This would just be a speck in time along his unending years.

That, he most certainly, could deal with.

With attention drifting to the miko once more, feeling less weighed down by internal confliction, he stated into the nightly breeze, “Your stance is off again, Miko.”

He watched as her head snapped his way, pausing all movements once more at his command, instilling a sense of satisfaction at the subconscious obedience.

Kagome was feeling less embarrassed this time, instead deciding to fully take advantage of a free personal trainer. It’s not every day one gets to be tutored by excellence, and as long as he was offering, why not?

“Again? Where?” she happily asked.

-X-

Sesshomaru had divulged some very useful pointers. Kagome had listened with an eagerness to learn and improve, adjusting grip where it was needed, correcting stances and the placement of feet, following every direction to the T.

This, however, went on long into the night, and she was beginning to think he actually liked sniffing out her mistakes and prying them open, by way of the near-constant smirk that crept across his face.

Sure, at first there had been gratitude from her, but now she was positive he was just being nitpicky and gaudy.

“It is still off,” she heard him say again, swearing it was probably the hundredth time that evening.

“And where am I off _this_ time?” Kagome shot back with irritation, elbow out with the Tessaiga resting against her shoulder, the other hand bracing against a hip as she stood glaring at his seated form. The posture was very reminiscent of a certain hanyou.

Sighing, she waited for his response in the stretched silence.

But instead of answering, Sesshomaru stood up from under the willow, casually strolling over to stop a foot away.

Looking down as though he were a sensei assessing a student – in which case, it was the most comparable situation – he issued a command.

“Assume your prior position.”

Resetting the sword and facing forward, Kagome stood with feet shoulders-width apart, knees slightly bent, right hand on the hilt of the sheathed blade.

“Like this?” she asked tentatively, watching his assessment from the corner of her eyes. If it had been the right position, his expression did not show. So she waited for some type of reaction, not wanting to rush.

 _Maybe I am hopeless…_ she thought with a little despair as the silence continued to stretch. After all, they had been at this for quite some time now, and she had only been covering the basics. Her mind supplied a scene from _The Karate Kid_ , feeling as though she would be waxing on and waxing off for a long time to come. 

“Like this,” his voice surprised her from behind, so close that she felt his hot breath ghost the shell of her left ear, causing her own breath to hitch and drag her throat.

_When had he moved?_

And before her thoughts wandered, she felt large hands gently grasp either side of her hips, feeling the contours of each finger through the thin fabric of her clothes, before he turned her ever so slightly, adjusting her angle.

Her body complied like a mannequin doll, tilting to where he positioned her, surrendering control.

“And this,” he said again in a voice so low as a claw-tipped hand lifted from her hip to reach around her narrow waist, clasping over her own hand that rested upon Tessaiga’s hilt. The unexpected touch sent tingles of warmth up along her entire forearm.

Instantly she stilled as her mind drew a blank, whole body heating up at his close proximity, never having really been this near to him before except for instances of rescue and that one time she had assaulted him with an impulsive hug.

However, that was entirely different. _This_ was –

But she didn’t have much time to give thought to her reaction as his grasp slid her hand closer to the tsuba of the sword, giving a small squeeze to indicate the proper position before letting go.

And just as suddenly, the warmth at her back, hand, and hips receded as he stepped away.

 _What… what was that?_ she thought distantly, disbelievingly.

The humid summer air suddenly felt cold, causing a shiver to run down her heated spine, bringing her back to current reality.

“Umm…thanks,” her voice came out close to a stutter, sure that her cheeks were tinged in pink, unsure what to make of the moment that seemed suspended in time.

“Hn.” His noncommittal hum came as a low rumble from his chest. “Proceed.”

Shaking her head free from the momentary cloudiness, from the fervid reaction of her unconscious will, she straightened her form and advanced on the left diagonal downward strike, cutting through the remains of the fleeting delusion.

Satisfied with the proper technique, Sesshomaru continued to watch as her routine drove on. And it made him wonder; just how far had she traveled, how many steps had been taken, how many times had she winked in and out of existence through the magic of a nearly unfathomable portal, only to wind up here again.

She had been everywhere and nowhere all at once, as though time could not make up its mind on where to properly place the strange woman.

A warm breeze picked up, and he was reminded of the last time he had seen her over a year ago, so seemingly distant under the same glow, of the same moon, in the same sky. 

She was the same, yet different.

-X-

A/N: There you go – longest chapter in the fic so far at over 5400 words. This was hard to write, so much inner reflection. I promise there will be more action next time since we got this out of the way. We have crossed the first act in which she is growing past her despair, on the journey to finding herself… at least I think that’s the first act, or whatever. I’ve never actually taken a creative writing course to understand how ‘acts’ are supposed to work (too lazy to google it either, I suppose) – the only thing remotely close was Grade 12 English class. And that was 12 years ago. Forgive me, please.

Also, special shout-out to odaun (FFN) and TaxLady0415 (FFN) for your constant support through each chapter! Your reviews never fail to brighten up my day!


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